The Choices we Make
by shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod
Summary: Steve is found in the snowy wasteland and is reunited with Peggy to spend his life with her. After she dies, Steve will have to adjust to a world without Peggy, while still fighting HYDRA. Teaming up with Black Widow and the rest of the Avengers is the only option in order to take it down. Everyone has ghosts. Everyone has choices. They only have to decide what to do with them.
1. Chapter 1

**Here's a Captain America fanfic. Duh :). Hope you guys enjoy! I hope to get the next chapter up and done by tonight. Please read and review so I know what I'm doing right and wrong!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or quotes.**

Steve watched the Tesseract burn through the hull of the ship and fall into the open sky. There was nothing he could do, so it was on to the next objective. He quickly moved to the front of the ship, setting down his shield and taking off his helmet before sitting down. There were so many buttons on the control panel, but the only one that interested him was a small map showing his location. New York City was his target and as of now, he was in the middle of nowhere. turning on his mic, he phoned in the number for the H.Y.D.R.A base, which was where Peggy and everyone else would be.

"Come in, this is Captain Rogers! Do you read me?," he said into the mic, waiting for a response.

Static sounded on the end of the line before someone picked up. "Captain Rogers, what is your-" they were cut off by Peggy.

"Steve, is that you? Are you alright?" she asked into the microphone.

"Peggy!," Steve said, glad to hear her voice. "The Red Skull is dead."

She seemed to be happy about this, but he could still hear the worry in her voice. "Good. What about the plane?"

Steve hesitated a little, looking down at all of the knobs and the various lights that said 'autopilot'. "That's going to be a little bit tougher to explain."

"Give me your coordinates, and I can find you a safe landing site," Peggy replied.

Steve realized that there was no safe place to land this plane, as the bombs may have also been on a timer. "There's not gonna be a safe landing," he started. "But I can try and force it down somehow."

His reply took Peggy by surprise and it took her a second to answer. "I'll-I'll get Howard on the line. He'll know what to do for sure."

"There's not enough time. This thing's moving way too fast and it's heading for New York," Steve paused as the realization of what he had to do came to mind. "I have to put her in the water. It's the only way to make sure everyone is safe."

"Please don't do this. W-we have time. We can work it out," Peggy pleaded.

"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are going to die. I can do something to help them. Peggy, this is my choice," he said, hoping to convince her of something even he wasn't entirely sure about.

Steve looked out at the flat sky once again and forced the plane towards the ground. It thundered and shook beneath him as he neared the ground. "Peggy…" he said.

She replied, "I'm here."

The ocean littered with glaciers came into view as the plane exited the clouds. "I'm going to need a rain check on that dance."

"All right," she said, stuttering slightly. "A week next Saturday at The Stork Club," she said. Steve could hear the tears in her voice and the sadness that begged him to not drop and farther.

"You've got it".

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?" she said, trying to sound as professional as possible.

"Yes, ma'am," Steve replied, trying to lighten the dark mood. "You know, I still don't know how to dance," he replied, smiling slightly.

Peggy in return, also smiled at his remark. "I can show you how. Just promise me that you'll be there."

"We'll have the band play something slow," he said as the plane closed in. He could feel the air growing colder as the ice came to meet him.

"I'd hate to step on your…" he tried to finish. It was too late. The plane crashed into the frozen wasteland.

"Steve?" Peggy asked, desperately wanting a reply. "Steve?" A tear dropped from her face as she rattled the radio, trying to get past the static sound. "Steve," she tried again. It was no use. The plane was gone.

In the hallway, hearing their conversation, Colonel Phillips bowed his head and walked silently down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2! I am continuing this, do not worry. If I am lucky, another chapter tonight. If not tonight, then in the morning! Please read/review/comment :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or quotes.**

The next few days were hectic. Hitler was defeated and most of the world celebrated. Captain America's Howling Commandos toasted in his honor and the secret research base was cleaned up. All the while, Howard Stark took it upon himself to find the wreckage. A day after the plane went missing, he himself boarded the plane and then set sail into the Arctic.

The hours passed as the ship slowly made its way through the ice field.

"Sir," one of his men said. Howard moved over to the monitor and saw the claw arm of the ship gripping the tesseract.

"Keep going," he said.

"But there's no trace of wreckage. And the energy signature stops here," the man replied.

"Just keep looking," Howard said, walking back to the windows of the ship. "He's out there somewhere," he reminded himself.

The next few days were a blur for Peggy. The base had been shut down, so at the moment she was free to do whatever she wanted. But what she wanted was Steve. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered his blue eyes and the half smile that seemed to stay on his face. Howard didn't know how long he'd be gone for, so Peggy was alone with her memories. She held out hope that somehow Steve would be able to meet her again.

Friday night finally rolled around and Peggy found herself pacing in her room, 'wearing a path on the carpet', as her mother would say. Finally she sat down on her bed and put her head in her hands. "Steve, you have no idea how much hope I have," she said. Taking her head out of her hands, she got up and left it at that.

It was horribly cold in the Arctic, Howard could admit that. A few days on the water and still no signs of anything. Even he was starting to lose hope. "I'm going to bed," he told the attendant, yawning. "Wake me if anything happens." He left the command center of the ship and walked down the hall to his room. Getting ready for bed, he imagined Peggy's pained expression if Steve didn't show up the next night. He had to find him, for her. He slid into bed, his mind racing with thoughts, and turned out the light.

"Captain!" someone shouted, waking Howard from his sleep. He rolled out of bed and turned on the light.

"What?" he called, really hoping he wouldn't have to leave his room at this hour. If the arctic was cold during the day, it would be much colder at night

"You need to see this!" That was all Howard needed to hear. He threw on a jacket and tied his shoes as fast as he could before running down the hall to the control center.

"What is it?" he asked, breathing slightly heavily.

"Right in front of us," the attendant replied. Howard looked through the window and saw a steady billow of smoke rising from out of the ice. The ship drew closer and he could make out small black dots on the ice. Even though it was early in the morning, the small amount of sun illuminated the water and the ice, making the black clearly visible. He figured out exactly what the black was not dots, pieces of wreckage.

"Full steam ahead," he said. "Set us down next to the wreckage."

"Yes sir," his attendant replied.

Howard rushed back to his room, telling a steward to get a message to everyone to prepare for landing. Howard anxiously awaited the moment when their boat would touch down on the frozen wasteland. And leave the Arctic with hopefully one more passenger.

It took half an hour, but soon the ship was docked and most of the crew was out on the ice. Everyone was dwarfed by the sheer size of the wreckage. "Look everywhere, mainly at the helm. Take precautions, but we want to be out of here as soon as possible. I have no idea how stable this ice is," Howard said as they started forward. The icy wind bit through his jacket and he clenched his teeth until they were sheltered by what used to be a wing of the plane. They found an area that wasn't under too much snow and dug until they had a small way in. Some of the members couldn't fit, so they remained outside in case something should happen.

Even for Howard it was a challenge to fit through the small hole. He maneuvered himself and dropped about a foot down into the ship, dusting the snow off his pants

Howard turned on his flashlight and looked around. They were in the front of the plane. The steel art working was amazing, intricate and sturdy. A layer of snow covered the inside of the plane and the front window was broken. Howard left his men to scour near the opening while he made his way to the pilot's chair, where he expected Steve to be sitting. Hopefully.

He made his way up, slipping on some ice first and regaining his composure before anyone saw. At the base of the chair was the captain's shield. Howard picked it up and the coldness seemed to break right through his gloves. A thin layer of ice covered it, making the light bounce off of the colors.

"Here!" he shouted. He made a motion to throw the shield and one of the officers caught it when he actually did throw it. Now that the shield was safe, Howard turned back to the chair. He made his way around to the front of it and gasped at what he saw.

Steve was sitting mostly upright in the chair, his hands still grasping the controls. A thin layer of snow and ice had covered him. His eyes were closed, which Howard thought was strange. Steve must've been very scared if he had closed his eyes. He was never one to want to miss anything that was happening.

But then again, who would really want to witness the thing that would cause your imminent death?

**Dun Dun Daaaaaa :). Hope you guys have liked it thus far!**

**If I made typos, please let me know so I can fix them!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:I still don't own Captain America.**

Howard saw Steve's compass with a picture of Peggy in it and immediately picked it up and stuck it in his pocket. Turning back to the captain, he looked for signs of life. Steve appeared to be frozen, unmoving in the ice. Howard bowed his head and closed his eyes. When he opened them, however, he saw a small puff of white move from Steve's form. He watched closer, and at regular intervals, a small puff of white would come out of Steve's nose. He was alive.

"Somebody get the stretcher from the ship! Immediately!" Howard shouted. No one dared to ask why, because there was only one reason he would ask for a stretcher. Someone went to fetch the stretcher from the ship and Howard tried to pry Steve's hand from the wheel. They came away with a snap as the ice released, letting Steve's hands go free. Howard watched as the captain's fingers curled ever so slightly and he began to pry the rest of him off of the chair.

When the man returned with the stretcher, Steve was only connected to the chair by the ice around his thighs. "Someone help me lift him up!" Howard commanded. It took three men, gripping Steve by the arms, to finally get him free of the chair.

"You're a heavy man, Cap," Howard whispered under his breath, then transferred his heavy form onto the stretcher and carefully made their way out of the plane, leaving with what they came to find.

Peggy had no idea that Steve had been rescued as she debated even going to the Stork Club. She knew there was almost no chance that he'd be there, but she had to try. She slipped on the the only dress Steve had ever seen her in, the red one with the low neck. She did her makeup for the sake of it and hailed a taxi to the club at six in the afternoon.

Once Steve was onboard the ship, they set off again, back towards land. Howard watched some of the plane sink into the ice, probably never to be seen again. The men had set up Steve in one of the rooms when Howard walked in. He was no doctor, but he still felt for Steve's pulse and knew that it was weaker than it should've been.

The men had tried to stretch Steve out as best as they could, but his legs were still slightly bent and his hands looked like they would fit perfectly over the plane's controls again. "We need to warm him up, and fast," Howard said. He brought blankets from other rooms and one of the men found a heat fan that they immediately turned on. Howard though Peggy may have laughed at the sight before him. The great Captain America, dripping wet, blankets piled high on top of him. He prayed, for Peggy's sake, that Steve would be alright.

It was a lonely night at the Stork Club. It was bustling as usual, people still celebrating Ve-Day. Peggy seemed to be the only one not celebrating. She stood by the bar, eyes always turned towards the door, waiting for the familiar man to come in.

"Waiting for someone, miss?" a man asked.

She turned around to see the bartender smiling at her. "Yes, actually," she said in her British accent.

"When's he supposed to be here?"

"I'm not sure. I said eight o clock. I hope he's just late," Peggy replied, sighing.

"I hate to burst your bubble, ma'am, but it's almost eleven," the man said.

"Goodness," Peggy said, surprised that she had spent nearly five hours at a bar. "Do you close anytime soon?"

"That depends on when your man gets here," the bartender said, smiling. He returned to his drinks as Peggy returned her gaze to the door.

The night went on and no Steve appeared in the door. Peggy left early in the morning, thanking the bartender as she went. Back into a taxi, back to her room, no one else in tow. What a crushing day it was.

Howard awoke in the morning in the same chair he had probably dozed off in during the night. The sun was in the sky, illuminating the small amount of ice that was still seen. They were close to land now, only perhaps a hundred miles or so, before they could board the plane and head home. Howard took Steve's compass out of his pocket and opened it, placing it beside where Steve lay. He no longer looked covered in ice. Howard put a finger to Steve's throat and his pulse seemed normal, his hands were no longer extremely cold. They had uncurled and his legs were once again straight. He looked like he was standing at attention in his sleep. So why wasn't he waking up?

Howard got up from his chair and started moving some of the blankets off of the captain until there were only a few left. "Come on, cap. Peggy needs you back home. Don't leave her hanging. She doesn't look at anyone the way she look at you. You're really special to her and I hope you know that," Howard said to him. He knew this was probably a bad time to leave, but he was starving. Howard left the room, closing the door as he went, and went to the mess hall in search of a bagel.

**Please read and review! It means so much to me. Help a fellow writer and fangirl out :)**

**New chapter hopefully tonight, if not, then in the morning**


	4. Chapter 4

**Kinda a short chapter, but a new one coming soon!**

**I still do not own Captain America**

Steve was stuck. More figuratively than actually. He was suspended in some sort on limbo. Everything was fuzzy around him and he felt as if his very essence was so fragile that is could be puffed out by the faintest breath.

"Where am I?" he called into the darkness.

"The crossroads," a voice replied. Still the haziness was in front of him and Steve could not make out where the voice was coming from.

"The crossroads of what?"

"Your life." An image flashed before his eyes. It was Peggy, a picture taken of her in mid-laugh, holding an ice cream cone, with a dot of ice cream on her nose. But something was off. She was older. Not the crisp, orderly woman she was in the army. She looked normal, happy. The image wavered and faded away.

"That is your future if you choose to return now."

"How can you know?" Steve asked.

"Do not ask such pitiful questions that you can not hope to understand the answers to. You may be a super soldier, but you are still a mortal." The voice thundered around Steve.

Another image appeared. It was another woman, but she was not Peggy. She wore a tight black outfit with a belt that held a red hourglass symbol. She had startling red hair and piercing green eyes. She simply stood in the image, gun in her holster and a hand on her hip. Everything about her screamed 'assassin' to Steve. But he couldn't help feeling mildly attracted and curious about this woman he had never met.

"Who is she?" Steve asked, curious.

"She," the voice said. "Does not even exist yet. But if you choose to leave behind what you love now, you may come to find new love in the future."

"The future can change."

"Yes it can. But the choice is still yours. Choose wisely," the voice faded into nothingness, leaving Steve floating in the darkness of his mind.

"Peggy. A love I know that I have. I should go back to her," Steve thought. "But this other woman. What will happen to her? Will I ever meet her?"

Even though Steve was curious, he ultimately had to do what he was trained to do. And that was to go with his gut.

"How's the captain?" someone asked as Howard entered the mess hall.

"Okay I think. I just hope he wakes up. He doesn't seem to be too cold anymore. It's amazing we found him alive," Howard said, smiling as he retrieved a bagel.

"That super-soldier stuff really does make him super," someone else said. Howard smiled in response and headed back to the room. Closing the door behind him, Howard turned around, about to take a bite of his bagel, as stopped dead in his tracks. Steve's eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. His eyes seemed uncertain though, as if he was debating between something. They moved unsteadily, searching his surroundings.

"Steve?" Howard asked, moving toward him slowly and setting his bagel next to the compass on the nightstand.

Steve turned his head slightly so that he was looking right at Howard. "What day is it?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"Sunday. The plane crashed. It took us a few days to find you. We brought you back here and you were almost frozen. We retrieved your shield too," Howard said, picking up the shield that was by Steve's bed and showing it to him before putting it back down.

"I missed it," Steve said.

"Missed what?" Howard asked. He knew what Steve was talking about, but he wanted to make sure Steve was talking about the same thing.

"I had a date," he said, trying to sit up.

"Woah there, let me help you," Howard said, standing up. He doubted he would be any help to the captain, but at least he could try. Soon Steve was sitting at the edge of the bed, eyeing Howard's bagel. Howard handed it over and Steve took a huge bite. "I'm sure we can work something out. We should be docking tomorrow and the plane would take a day about to get back. When I get back I could tell her to meet me at the Stork Club someday in the coming week. But she would actually be meeting you," Howard finished.

"Why would you do that for me?" Steve asked.

"I've seen the way she looks at you. Like you're the only person in the world. She's never looked at anyone else like that."

Steve thought back to the image of an older Peggy, caught in such a precious moment. If he was with her, maybe there would be more moments like that.

Steve finished off the bagel before replying. "You would do that?" he asked.

"Of course. You're Captain America! Maybe you guys could grab some fondue afterwards," Howard said, smirking. Steve smiled in return and Howard knew everything would be okay.

Fondue. "I understood that reference!" You will get both references if you have seen the movies with Cap in them :). As always, please read and review!


	5. Dancing

**Hey Guys! First, I'd just like to say thanks to my amazing followers, ****DigitalDreamn****, and **** .3781****. As always, reviews are appreciated :)**

**Sorry, this is the end. For now. Sorry if this is slightly boring, but this is not an action story. Hope you guys still enjoy! I have an idea for the next chapter, so do you want me to write it? Comment/review about if I should leave the story here or keep going. Thanks!**

**I again, still do not own Captain America**

Once the ship docked, the air was much warmer. They were in South Africa, at the southernmost tip. A small plane was waiting to take them to Europe, and from there, back to America.

Steve eyed the plane warily. The captain was still a little shaky on his feet, but he had made an astounding full recovery.

"It's just a plane. No evil men are flying it, I promise," Howard said.

Steve nodded and blew warm air into his hands, trying to warm them.

"You a little cold, Capsicle?" Howard asked and smiled.

"More nervous than anything, I guess," Steve replied. They walked towards the plane, Howard getting on first and Steve following slowly in second.

Once he was on the plane, flying was no big deal. Steve watched the landscapes change and shift beneath him as they made their way across Africa. Howard was passed out in one on the seats, leaving Steve with his thoughts. He couldn't shake the idea of the woman with red hair and green eyes. He loved Peggy, but still he felt that something was off.

He took out his sketchbook and began to draw.

As the plane entered European airspace, Howard woke up and the men sat in the cabin of the plane in silence. Steve finished his drawing. It looked just like the woman from his dream, but he had drawn her softer side. Not the hard, cruel side he had seen in his vision, but the side that she was probably hiding.

"What'chya got there?" Howard asked, breaking the silence.

Steve quickly closed the sketchbook. "Nothing," he replied.

The plane landed and they boarded another plane, en-route to America. They flew the rest of the way in silence.

"Just meet me there at eight on Wednesday, okay?" Howard asked over the phone. He and Steve had literally just made it into Howard's apartment before he ran to the phone and dialed Peggy. It was early on Tuesday morning and Steve didn't see the rush to calling her the second they got back. What he really wanted to do was sleep.

"How come? I didn't even know you were back and all of a sudden you want to take me out?" Peggy asked.

"Absolutely," Howard replied, smiling.

"Fine then. Eight, I'll see you there," Peggy said, giving a small half smile. She paused before asking the question that was plaguing both of their minds. "You didn't happen to find anything over there, did you?"

"If I had, you'd be the first person I'd tell," Howard said, and hung up. He turned to Steve, who was across the room. "Alright, eight tomorrow night at the Stork Club."

"I have nothing to wear," Steve said, looking slightly sad. He was in one of Howard's shirts, which was too small and the biggest jeans Howard had.

"You're right. Come on, we're going to get you a suit," Howard said, smiling and gesturing towards the door.

On Wednesday, Peggy slid into the red dress once again and did her hair and makeup. She tried a little harder this time, sinc e she knew she would actually see someone there. But not _the_ someone. She took some time to look at herself in the mirror, pinching her cheeks to give them some color. Then she go into a taxi and was off to the club.

"Are you sure the suit isn't a bit much?" Steve asked while Howard was driving towards the club. It was a dark blue suit with a maroon tie and a white undershirt.

"It looks like your other outfit, only more professional," Howard said, smirking. "I almost forgot," he added, pulling out the compass. "Thought you might want this."

Steve took the compass and opened it, looking at the picture of Peggy he had cut from a newspaper. He closed it and put it in his pocket. "Thank you," he said. Of all of the thank you's he'd ever said, this one meant the most. Thank you for saving my life, for saving it again, and putting me back with the one who cares the most. Howard seemed to understand the silent meanings, as they drove the rest of the way in silence.

"Hello again, ma'am," the bartender said when Peggy stepped through the door.

"Hello."

"So, do I get to see the lucky man tonight?" he asked, smirking.

"No. There was an accident. I'm waiting for someone else," she said, her head dropping a little.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "Have a nice night." Peggy nodded her head in thanks and turned her head towards her drink, looking away from the door for a split second.

That second was all it took for Steve to sneak in, past Peggy, whose gaze returned to the door a moment later. Steve made his way around the back wall of the club, before slowly walking up behind her. She was wearing the red dress he had seen her in before his big mission. Gosh, did she look beautiful in it. He was only a few steps away from her and was running through his head what he would say. As if on queue, the music changed to a slower song.

"May I have this dance?" he asked when he was right behind her.

Peggy turned around, surprised that someone was talking to her. In the dim light, she couldn't very well see the man's face, but he was wearing the colors of the American flag. "No, thank you," she replied, turning back to the bar.

"I don't think you understand. I need someone to show me how," he said, smiling. He reached a hand out and wrapped it around her arm slowly.

Peggy turned around, noticing the man's voice. "Steve?" her voice quivered.

He answered her by kissing her fully on the lips. She turned around and embraced him with her arms, he doing the same. When they finally parted, Peggy had tears in her eyes. "How are you alive?"

"That's a story for another day. Now, show me how to dance so that I don't step on your feet," he said, cracking that half smile she knew him so well for.

"Alright," she replied, a tear falling from here eye. They walked hand in hand to the area closest to the band, where Peggy put her head on Steve's shoulder and they danced until the morning came. Peggy was determined to never let Steve go. Steve held her in the exact same way.

The woman with the red hair and the green eyes would find her man eventually, but it wouldn't be Steve. As for not, he was living in the moment.

**Anyone catch the Tony Stark reference? It's small, but if you found it, put it in the comments/reviews :)**

**Also, I'd just like to say that I ship both Steggy and Romanogers. But because this takes place in the 40s, there was no Romanogers. Or will there be?**

**How did you like it? As I said, I have an idea for the next chapter, so be patient while I write it. Update in a day or so if you guys want me to. But seriously, I need your help. Thanks again!**


	6. Screams of his Soul

**So, I decided to continue this story. No reviews yet :(. Can we possibly change that? :) And thanks to my two followers, ****DigitalDreamn** **and **** .3781**.

**I hope you guys like this next chapter! Again, please review, as it helps so much in the writing process.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Captain America, which I don't, I wouldn't be sitting here writing fan fiction. **

The next sixty-five years sped by in Steve's eyes. Every single one of them was spent with Peggy and their family. They founded S.H.I.E.L.D. together along with Howard, who would take them out for fondue whenever he had the chance. Howard was quick to assume and a bit annoying, but Steve thought that having a Stark in his life simply made life itself more interesting. Some days he would call in Steve to try a new invention, only to have something go wrong and have to leave the testing room with soot in his hair, but a smile on his face.

That's what Steve liked about Stark. That slightly annoying smile that always seemed to say, "I know something you don't."

Five years after Steve found Peggy at the Stork Club, he proposed and with a shaking voice she said yes. They went on to raise two beautiful children, a boy and a girl, both whom went to work for the government in various countries. Later in life, they took an amazing vacation to Hawaii, where they ate the best ice-cream that any of them had ever tasted.

That was where he took the picture of Peggy with ice cream on her nose, laughing at the fact that her son had put it there in attempt to have her taste his ice cream. They raised their children right, hiding nothing about their dad being Captain America, or their mom being possibly the toughest woman around.

Peggy's toughness didn't last, however, when Howard was killed in a car crash years later. It took all of Steve's strength and love for her to stay on her feet. But just like every other hardship, they got through it, together. They continued.

Steve and Peggy went to watch their organization blossom, taking down evil whenever it would surface. Steve still looked like a man in his mid-thirties, thanks to the super-soldier serum.

While out, some would stop and stare at a young man kissing an older woman on the cheek as they walked, but Steve and Peggy didn't mind in the least. They were together. Some days they would stay in their house and watch old 40's movies, black and white, on an old projector. Other days they would just walk around Washington D.C. together, going to the various monuments and always visiting their favorite places that had survived along with him.

Those were the good times. The good times ended when Peggy suffered a heart attack, and a bad case of alzheimer's setting in shortly afterward. She was moved to a nursing home, where Steve would sit with her every day, like a guardian angel.

The day did come, however, when Peggy did pass, and it literally and physically tore Steve apart. He went to the funeral and then spent the next week locked in his house. Some days were better than others. He would watch some TV, laugh a little. Or he would go back through photo albums and his tears would wet the pages.

Their children couldn't make it back for the funeral, as they had important work to do for the government in other countries. So that left Steve and his memories, alone, locked up the house he used to share.

A week after Peggy's death, Steve decided to finally leave the house and go outside to walk around. He strapped his shield to his back, in case for some reason he would need it and covered it up with a blue jacket. He stopped by her picture on the way out. "I'll be home soon," he said and walked out the door.

It was a warm spring afternoon, plenty of joggers still out. Steve walked about ten miles from his house before debating on turning back. A small plume of smoke rose in the distance, probably from some sort of a car crash, which wasn't that uncommon. Steve reached the end of the next block and crossed the street, heading back on the opposite side of the street that he had just walked up on. At least, he continued turning back until he heard the screams.

**A little bit of a short chapter, but the follow-up chapter is coming soon. **

**I know this chapter was mainly a flashback as to what happened in Steve's life up until now, so I apologize if you don't like that.**

**I also really liked the idea of Steve and Peggy just being with each other, as I mention that they are together a bunch. This is important to show Steve's choice for staying with Peggy and how it impacted his life :)**

**If I made any typos, please tell me, as I am only one person juggling life and everything can't be perfect.**


	7. The Winter Twist

**HI again guys! Sorry, this is a bit of a short chapter, but there is another, longer one, coming soon, I promise. This chapter is a little bit like Captain America the Winter Soldier, so spoilers if you haven****'****t watched it. Also, there was no Avengers, so that****'****s why Natasha and Steve have never met. If you have any questions, feel free to comment and I will most certainly answer them! Also, thanks to Qweb for the review! And Bleh-X, DigitalDreamn, and .3781 for the follows!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned any of Captain America or Marvel, this fan fiction would either not be here or it would be much better. :)**

His mind clicking into battle mode, and Steve rushed to where he heard the screams. He pulled off his jacket in mid run, took out his shield, and put his jacket back on, all without stopping once.

People stopped and stared, not at the screams, but at captain america, back in action. He heard something else amid the screams, a woman's voice.

"Get out of the way!" She yelled repeatedly. Steve rounded the corner of the block just in time to see a bullet connect with her shoulder. The shooter then jumped up onto a destroyed car, aiming his gun at the woman

Steve leapt out, his shield connecting with the shooters metal arm. A loud ringing like a bell sounded as the shooters fist connected with his shield. The shooter seemed to smile behind his faceplate, as if egging Steve on.

He pulled out a knife and danced it around his hands, lashing out at Steve at random intervals, finally twisting his arms so that Steve leg go of the shield.

As Steve got up he saw that the shooter was holding Steve's shield.

He threw it with incredible force and it stuck into the metal end of a nearby abandoned car.

The shooter came after him again, but Steve was ready. They each threw a few punches and eventually Steve was able to hook his hand around the shooters faceplate and swing him over his shoulder, the faceplate clattering to the ground.

Steve stood up and turned around just in time to see the shooter stand up. His face was partially hidden by his long black hair, but it was still the face that Steve had known and loved his entire life.

"Bucky," he whispered.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" Bucky asked, taking a step forward.

"How did you survive?" Steve wanted to say but he couldn't find it in his heart to say it.

Another noise sounded behind him and Steve had barely ducked before a rocket came from behind him, towards Bucky. It blew up and Bucky was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared with the smoke.

Steve turned behind him, towards where the rocket had came, to see the same woman that got shot earlier. She dropped the rocket launcher and slumped against the truck.

She looked familiar. Very familiar

Steve moved towards her. "Are you okay?" He asked.

She nodded. "I've had worse," trying to crack a smile, but it turned into a wince.

"C'mon ill take you to a hospital."

"No!" She shouted. "No," she said again quieter

"Why not? You're going to bleed out and you need medical attention," Steve said.

"Look. I just cant okay?"

Steve heard sirens and looked down the road to see multiple black trucks headed their way. The woman looked scared as they approached. "They friends of yours?" Steve asked

"Not exactly," she said quietly.

Steve nodded frustrated. "Okay. Ive got supplies at my place. C'mon," he said and grabbed her uninjured arm and hooked it around his shoulder.

He started walking slowly, supporting her.

"What was all that back there?" He asked when they were a few blocks away and out of sight from the trucks.

"All in good time. Thanks cap," she said and smiled through half closed eyes

"Yeah. Can't really hide your identity when your weapon of choice is an american shield," he said and smirked. "But who are you?"

"Natasha Romanoff. Or black widow I guess," she said.

"Pleased to meet you," Steve replied. Not many people were pleased to meet the black widow, mostly because many of them didn't last too long.

"Likewise. Under different circumstances would've been nicer."

Steve smiled and kept supporting her. They had walked almost three miles, so a little over five until they would reach his apartment.

"It's still a few miles away. You want me to get a cab or something?" Steve asked

Natasha simply shook her head no. "I'll be fine. Let's just keep moving." They kept walking, her red hair swishing back and forth as they hobbled towards Steve's apartment.

**Again, comment questions if you have them. Everything will be explained in the next chapter i.e., Natasha, Bucky, and the black vans chasing them. Thanks for reading! Again, sorry for the short chapter, but the next one will be longer, I promise.**


	8. Memories, Movies, and Smashed Glass

**New chapter! Obviously ;). This one is kind of long, but I think I needed the space to get everything done. The flashbacks and why they are happening so suddenly will be explained in the next chapter.**

**Thank you to Qweb to reviewing. Also, thanks to my amazing followers: ****Bleh-X****, ****heartdraconis19361****, ****Wordsmith94****, **** .3781****, and ****DigitalDreamn****.**

**Hope you guys like this next chapter! As always, please review and follow or something!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these amazing characters/superheroes/people**

**There is actually a song for this chapter and that song is….**

**Bent by Matchbox Twenty. I highly recommend listening to it, as it is amazing and fits this chapter. Thanks!**

The sun hung low in the sky when Steve finally got Natasha back to his place. She was leaning on him heavily and her skin was pale from blood loss.

"We're here," Steve said as he reached into his pocket to pull out his keys.

"Thank you," Natasha whispered as Steve helped her through the doorway.

"You can lie down here while I get some supplies," Steve said as he helped her onto the couch.

"I'll get blood all over it." This made Steve want to laugh. Here she was, bleeding out, and she cared about the couch.

"It's an old couch," Steve said.

_FLASHBACK_

"You coming or not?" Peggy yelled across the house. Steve walked down the hall to find Peggy on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on her lap. It was 1962. The memory of that day had stayed with him forever.

"I can't miss a movie night!" Steve exclaimed and sat down next to Peggy as she began the movie. She rested her head on Steve's shoulder and sighed.

They watched the movie together, laughing and eating popcorn until it was done.

When Steve switched off the TV, and looked down to see that Peggy had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Her features were softer in the dim light, the wrinkles that were starting to appear seemed faded.

Steve gingerly moved his shoulder out from under her head and stood up. He then picked her up and carried her bridal style, into the bedroom. He gently lied her down and tucked the covers up to her chin. She moved slightly but did not wake.

Steve then turned out the light and slid into bed next to her, wrapping his arm around her side as he drifted off to sleep.

_END FLASHBACK_

Sure, it was just a couch, but it had witnessed Steve and Peggy's entire relationship. Strangely, Steve felt attached to that couch, no matter how stupid it sounded.

Natasha lay down slowly on the couch, grimacing when her shoulder hit the side.

Steve went into the kitchen and got a few dish towels, some rubbing alcohol, and a knife. He didn't exactly have medical grade tweezers, so he would have to do his best. He returned to Natasha and sat down, putting some rubbing alcohol on the rag. He pushed down her shirt and jacket and her right hand slapped his hand away so fast he gasped.

"I have to get your clothing off your shoulder to get the bullet out and dress the wound," Steve said.

"Mkay," she replied. He gave her a dish towel and she put it in her mouth to bite on. Steve proceeded to move her clothing off her shoulder until it was completely exposed.

The wound still trickled blood, which was a good and bad sign. He put the rag with the alcohol on the wound to wipe away and cleanse the wound.

Steve raised the knife. Good thing he wasn't squeamish. "This is going to hurt," he said.

"Get it over with," Natasha replied through the towel and clenched her eyes shut.

Steve maneuvered the knife into her wound until he felt something hard. He forced the knife up, causing Natasha to quietly yell through the rag. Steve picked out the bullet and set it on the coffee table. He then took another rag and doused it in rubbing alcohol and pressed it to the wound. Natasha took the rag from her mouth and twisted her head to look at the wound. "All done?" she asked

"Not quite. I think you'll need stitches," Steve replied.

"Screw stitches. I feel fine. And i heal really fast too."

"You sure?"

"Steve, I'm an assassin. I know my limits," she replied.

She tried to get up from the couch but lay back down as a grimace passed over her face.

"Could I maybe-"

"You can stay here," Steve said and smiled.

"How did you know I was going to say that?" she questioned

"Intellect," he replied.

"I was going to ask if I could have a glass of water," Natasha smirked.

Steve's cheeks turned red with embarrassment. "Of course. But you can stay the night too."

"Always the gentleman," she replied and grinned. Steve stood up and made his way to the kitchen, filling up a glass of water and bringing it back to Natasha. He sat back down and handed it to her.

She took it with one hand and drank, coughing a little afterwards and returning the glass to Steve's hand. He took the glass and remembered. The coughing, the water, the forgetting. He slipped back into his memories.

_Flashback_

It was just another normal day, Steve visiting Peggy in the nursing home. He put on his brave face and smiled as he walked into her room, sitting down beside her bed.

"Steve," she whispered. Steve kept his brave face on and smiled.

"How did you survive the crash? How are you here?"

"Howard got me out in time. I've been visiting you every day," Steve said as gently as he could. Telling her they were married and had kids had been too much of a shock to her the last few times he'd said it. So now he just stuck to the basics, for her sake. Watching her forget him every day was tearing his heart in two.

"Why?" she asked, confused.

" 'Cuz you're my best girl. I could never leave you," she replied. Her chest heaved as another round of coughing racked her body. Steve got up and poured a glass of water before sitting down beside her again.

"Here, Peggy," he said, moving the glass towards her. She did not move.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I do too, Peggy," he replied. She smiled and locked eyes with him before the light in her eyes faded out.

"Peggy?" he asked. The glass of water he was holding dropped to the ground and shattered. "Peggy!" He did't care how loud he yelled. He could wake up the whole damn nursing home and not care. He had no reason to care any more.

When the nurses rushed in, they found Steve, a broken man, weeping over the glue that had held his life together

_End Flashback_

**Hope you enjoyed! New chapter coming soon. **

**Please review and favorite and follow! It means the world to me!**

**Big thank you to Qweb for reviewing and such!**

**In response to your review: The Avengers WILL make an appearance in later chapters for sure**


	9. Walls

**Back for another chapter :). Thanks to all who have reviewed and followed and such. Be sure to check out wolfehr, and their amazing fan fiction, Our Situation, a great Captain America fanfic. They influence this fan fiction a lot :)**

**So, hope you guys enjoy. A short chapter with not much action, but next chapter things will pick up, promise. **

**Enjoy!**

Steve once again heard the shattering of glass and looked down in surprise. Natasha's water glass, which he had been holding, was now a mess of water and glass on the floor. "Are you okay?" Natasha asked, looking up at Steve worriedly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he replied. He went back into the kitchen and grabbed another towel and a broom and dustpan. Working methodically, he wiped away the water and swept the glass shards into the dustpan. Natasha kept watching him while he did this, curiously peeping over the side of the couch as if a man sweeping something up was the most intriguing thing she'd ever seen.

"You sure you're okay?" she asked

"I'm hardly sure of anything. Just a memory. It'll pass." Steve replied and stood up to throw the glass shards away.

"Some memories even time can't fade," Natasha countered. "Trust me. I know."

Steve threw away the glass shards just as the sunset was beginning to fade. Natasha's eyes were looking sleepy. "Want a blanket?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied sleepily.

Steve went into his bedroom and pulled an extra blanket out of the closet. When he came back, Natasha was asleep. He put the blanket gently over her and looked at her wound. Blood was turning the white bandages red.

"Idiot. She needs stitches," Steve thought. But who was he to call her an idiot? All he knew about her was that she was an assassin that almost died today and he had helped her. What had he gotten himself into?

The next morning, Steve was awoken by someone talking. "Shit," they were muttering under their breath. Steve got out of bed and walked quietly into the living room, where he found Natasha, sitting up, her head in her hands.

"What?" he asked.

"Did I stay here last night?" she replied, lifting her head and staring at Steve.

"Yeah. You got wounded. I thought I would help you."

"I don't need your help. I was fine on my own," she replied and tried to get up. A look of pain crossed her face and she sat back down, frowning.

"You obviously needed my help yesterday," Steve said, coming to stand next to her.

"Know who needed my help? Fury needed my help!" She yelled.

Steve jogged his memory. When he and Peggy wanted to retire, they had put Nick Fury and Alexander Pierce in charge.

"What about Fury?" Steve questioned.

"Like you care," she spat back.

"Look," Steve said, kneeling next to her. "I don't know what your problem is and I haven't done anything to make you this way. I helped you when you needed help. I gave you a place to stay. All I want to know is how you ended up like this and what happened to the man I appointed at SHIELD!" He didn't mean to sound so angry, but he was. Here was this woman, this infuriating yet beautiful woman, accepting his help one moment and then telling him off the next.

"You want to know my problem?" She said quietly.

"Yes. That's what I've been saying." He fought to understand this wall that she had built up around herself. If he could break that wall down, things may make more sense.

"I've been pursued ruthlessly by a man in a metal arm, going to extreme lengths to kill me. It turns out I no longer have a job, which I shouldn't be worried about when millions of people are about to die. On top of that, now I'm wounded and the closest person I have to family is dead," she sighed.

Steve understood that Bucky was the man with the metal arm, but everything else made no sense.

"Who is that?" Steve asked.

"Fury," she replied and noticed the look of surprise on his face. "He's dead."

**Okay, for those of you that watched CAWS, this fanfic will be a little different. I am not completely following the plot, but there will be some scenes from it. IE: the hellicarriers and taking them down, and a few others.**

**This chapter may not make much sense now, but I will explain everything in the next chapter.**

**Thank you nellanna for your kind review!**

**Be sure to check out wolfehr's fanfic, Our Situation, which, as I said before, majorly influences this fanfic.**

**Thanks for reading! New chapter in a few days.**


	10. Plans & Ghosts

**Okay, by now you all know that I don't own Captain America :)**

**Thanks for getting to this chapter! Again, it is a little boring, but the action will pick up next chapter. Thanks for reading and pleaseeeeeee review!**

Steve simply stared in surprise and sat back in a chair, shaking his head.

"How?" he asked.

"SHIELD is being run by HYDRA. Zola helped them take it over so now they're basically running the place. We have intel that they plan to use the new helicarriers to kill millions of people that could be a threat in the future."

"I didn't order and helicarriers to be built," Steve said, trying to figure out everything.

"Pierce ordered them. He's in charge of HYDRA. So basically, I have to dismantle those ships by sunset tomorrow or a lot of people will die."

"We," Steve corrected.

"Huh?" Natasha questioned.

"You said that you have to dismantle them, which is incorrect. It's up to both of us now."

"Steve, this is my mission. I have to complete it."

"Well, did your mission specify that no one else can help you along?" Steve asked and smiled.

Natasha glared at him before smirking. "Alright. But if you get killed, it's on you."

"Seems fair enough. Now, how to we take them down?"

Natasha pulled out three tiny computer chips. "We switch these with the ones in the helicarrier. That programs them to shoot down each other instead of the civilians," Natasha said. "I got them from a loyal SHIELD agent. Sadly, he's dead now."

"Sorry to hear that. How to we get up there?" Steve asked.

"We could hijack a plane or get Stark to give us a lift."

"Stark?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. Tony Stark, Iron Man," She responded.

Steve knew Tony was a part of SHIELD, but had never worked with him before. Typically, he went on missions alone. "I've heard he's a hard man to get along with."

"You could say that," Natasha smiled.

"Let's not involve anyone we don't have to. We don't need any more casualties."

"Steve, your patriotism is showing," Steve smirked at this comment. "So we'll each hijack a plane and go to the respective helicarriers and shut them down. But that leaves one out. We need all three hooked up," Natasha said, thoughtful lines crossing her face.

"I can get two of them. If they're close enough I could try jumping."

Natasha bit back a laugh. Steve looked at her like she was crazy. "Oh, you're serious," she said embarrassed. Steve nodded and leaned back in the chair.

"I'm usually always serious," Steve replied and grinned.

The rest of the day was easy, Natasha resting her quickly healing shoulder, both of them talking about strategy. Steve made lunch and dinner and Natasha was jealous of his cooking abilities.

When night came, both of them were sleepy and trying to mentally prepare for the day ahead.

"Can you walk?" Steve asked. In order to show that she could, Natasha stood up and placed a hand on her hip, being sassy.

"I didn't injure my legs, Rogers," she smirked.

"Good, because you get the bed," Steve replied and crawled onto the couch before she could sit down.

"Bu-"

"No buts. I need you at full strength tomorrow and you won't get that from sleeping on a couch."

"Freaking-"

"I will not sleep until you take the bed. Down the hall to the left," Steve motioned with his hand.

Something burned in Natasha's eyes before quickly fading away. "I can take care of myself Steve."

"Let me do that for one more day. Tomorrow you can get all shot up and come back here to sleep on the couch, deal?" His face was straight, but his eyes were smiling.

"Why are you so nice to me? You don't even know me. You don't know the things I've done," she said quietly.

"And I need to know a person's history to decide whether or not to be friends with them?" Steve asked.

"Trust me. If you knew my history, you may want to stay away," she replied and walked down the hall.

Steve was seriously annoyed of the wall she had built around herself. Sure, he wanted to be friends, but that was extremely hard considering that everything friendly he tried to do was shoved back in his face.

But he didn't give up when HYDRA was hurting people. He wouldn't give up now. And he certainly wouldn't stop trying to understand the red haired assassin from his memories years ago.

As he got comfortable on the couch, Steve could still smell Peggy on the cushions. A light, sweet smell that would always comfort him. He let it lull him to sleep.

**Hope you guys liked it :) Again, sorry that it was boring. I needed a chapter just for plans and such. Plans will go into affect next chapter.**

**Also, as I said before, check out wolfehr's story, Our Situation, which was updated today. **

**Thanks for reading and an update should be here Friday hopefully, if not then Saturday for sure.**


	11. Dreams

**Back with another short chapter. This was mainly inspired by Ghosts That We Knew, by DaughterOfPosideon333. Great story. **

**So this is my spin on it. Again, a little boring, but the battle begins next chapter :). Enjoy!**

Steve should've been used to waking up to screaming by now, but it was usually his own. Memories of the ice, slowly encroaching on him, even for the few days he was out there. Ruined his idea of winter forever.

But no. This time, he woke up to a different cry, one that was not his own. In an instant, his eyes were wide open and alert. The cry was coming from the bedroom, or was, until it abruptly stopped.

Steve got up from the couch silently and peeked his head in the bedroom. There he saw Natasha, sitting upright in the bed, her forehead sheened with sweat, shaking slightly. She was him at the door and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and took a deep breath to steady herself.

"You-" he started to say.

"If you ask if I'm okay, I will slap you from here. Do I look okay?" Natasha asked defensively.

Steve put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Okay, then what's wrong?"

Natasha lowered her head, avoiding his gaze.

"Nightmares?" he asked. She shook her head a little bit. This particular movement hurt her the most. Admitting she was plagued by the past. That she may regret some of the hundreds of people she killed. That she may wish to erase their pleading faces from memory—

"Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of. You're an assassin. I've got nightmares too," Steve said quietly, hoping to find some even ground. He moved towards the bed and sat on its edge, a few feet away from Natasha.

"I doubt my nightmares are as bad as yours, but everybody gets them. Just some people more than others."

"What are yours about?" Natasha asked.

Steve paused for a moment before answering. "Mainly just the ice. If Howard hadn't found me, I have no idea how long I would've been down there. I could've still been down there. It was just so cold and lonely. And scary," Steve replied.

"The great Captain America, scared?" Natasha said almost mockingly. But she wished she could take it back. There was no reason to be mocking a perfectly explainable fear. "That's not the whole truth, is it?"

Steve looked up at her. "Bucky's there too. Ever since I saw him again, I just keep having these flashbacks from the past. How on the train. I was so close to him. If I had just reached a little farther a little faster…"

"Nobody blames you for his 'death'," Natasha said. "I read the file. You did everything you could."

"And yet that still wasn't enough," Steve said hollowly.

"You're still not telling me everything," Natasha prodded.

"It's more than you've told me," Steve snapped. Natasha recoiled, and, seeing the hurt in her eyes, Steve said, "sorry. This is just hard to talk about when you're the only person talking." This was true, but also, he couldn't tell her for some reason that he knew her from his past. From a vision from when he was frozen, telling him to choose his future. That just seemed like too much for him to say to someone he barely knew.

"I'm an assassin, like you said," Natasha started quietly, bringing her knees up to her chest. "I've killed a lot of people that…now that I think back on it…maybe didn't deserve to die. Before Barton found me, I was much worse. But he saved me and brought me back to S.H.I.E.L.D. The least I can do is to make is choice worthwhile," she finished.

"I'm sure he's proud," Steve replied.

"No one much know what I'm going through. I have to face it alone."

"No, you don't. We all need help with some things. Everyone's afraid of something," Steve said.

Natasha nodded and lie back in bed. "Steve?"

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Would it be too much to ask you to stay in the room of a stranger for the night?" she gave a small smile.

Steve returned her smile and sat in a chair in the corner of the room, watching as Natasha slow drifted off to sleep.

What did this say about him? Would he do this for anyone else, or just for some woman that he remembered from years ago?

Again, his mind was toying with him, not letting him sleep, thoughts of everything drifting around his head. So he just sat there in the chair and tried to prepare the best he could for the battle ahead.

**As always, thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated and a new chapter should be up in a few days.**


	12. A Patriotic Thief?

**Hi again :). Okay, I know I promised a battle scene, but I just wanted to add in another preparation chapter before everything happens. I also wanted to highlight that Steve does still want to save Bucky, and I needed time for that. So, next chapter the battle will begin, I swear. Thank you all for reading and feel free to leave a comment and/or follow if you have enjoyed so far!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Captain America… well I don't, so I'll have to get over it**

Steve woke up early the next morning, stretching silently in the chair. His back ached from sleeping upright all night, but it was worth it. Neither Natasha or him had nightmares.

Steve got up slowly, trying to not wake Natasha, and went into the kitchen to make breakfast. He cooked bacon and eggs, a simple breakfast that would hopefully give them enough energy to take down the helicarriers.

As Steve was plating the food, Natasha walked into the kitchen, her hair slightly messy from the bed.

"Morning," Steve said as he put down her plate at the table.

"Morning. Thanks for the food," she replied and gave a small smile.

They sat down and ate in silence, each one knowing the plan by heart, knowing what had to be done. Steve finished first and was soon followed by Natasha as they place their dishes in the sink.

"Thanks," Natasha murmured.

"It's just food," Steve smirked.

"Well, for that, and for last night. Thanks for being there." Natasha wouldn't meet his gaze. Steve wondered how many people had seen her in the state she had been in last night. Probably not many. Maybe none.

"No problem. How's your wound?"

Natasha slid down her shirt. The bandage was a clean white, showing that the bleeding had stopped.

"About as good as a bullet wound gets," she smiled. Steve still looked uncertain. She slid her shirt back up. "I'm not going to hold us back, Rogers. You and your ninety-year old legs had better keep up with me."

Steve smirked in response. "You got a suit to wear?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I have to go pick it up," she replied.

"Same with me. Meet back here in an hour?"

"Aye aye, captain," Natasha smiled and started pulling on her shoes.

"I'm not a ship captain," Steve stated and tied up his running shoes.

"So? Only so many ship jokes someone can make," she turned and smirked as she opened the door and left.

Was it risky spitting up? Yes. But they had a tight window to get the helicarriers down. Each of them getting their suits at the same time would ensure that they had extra time in case something in the mission went wrong.

"Something always seems to go wrong, even on the simple missions," Steve thought to himself. He tried to think about something else, but not soon enough. He wad thrust into another flashback.

_Flashback_

Bucky grabbed Steve's shield from where it had fallen and proceeded to shoot at the HYDRA agent. The agent fired his blasters and Steve could already tell that the shield was not secure in Bucky's hand. He bit back a scream as Bucky flew backward, the shield clambering to the ground.

Steve rushed forward and picked it up, throwing it with all his might at the agent, finally knowing it down.

He took off his helmet and made his way to the side of the train, where Bucky was hanging on a small strip of metal. The snowy ground passed by them at hundreds of miles per hour and Steve looked own at the cliff. If Bucky fell, he would never get back out.

"Take my hand!" Steve yelled. His eyes fixed on Bucky's.

Their friendship was one unlike any other. One where calling the other person names symbolized your love for them. Where the big guy always stood up for the little guy, even though the little guy may have more heart. They were closer than friends, hell, they were closer than brothers.

Bucky reached his hand up to meet Steve's and the metal began to creak. Bucky's eyes filled with fear, a sight that Steve had never seen.

Bucky, afraid.

Steve didn't think it was possible.

He tried to move his lips, to say something to Bucky, but nothing came out.

Time seemed to slow as the metal gave way and Bucky plummeted to the ground hundreds of feet below, his hand still stretched out as if Steve could still have a shot at grabbing it.

_End Flashback_

Steve shook the memory from his head and brushed goosebumps from his arms. Bucky would be there, no doubt.

But was he still even Bucky? He hadn't remembered Steve. And that hurt more than watching Bucky fall.

When he fell, Steve knew there was nothing he could do. Now, however, Bucky was within his grasp, and he had no idea how to bring him back.

Steve picked up his keys and made his way uneasily to the door, picking up and hat and placing it on his head.

The museum was only a few miles away, so a five minute jog would get him there. Steve adjusted the hat on his head and walked out the door, locking it behind him.

Once he got to the museum, it was too early in the morning for it to be open. He snuck through an open window and made his way to the exhibit.

It was strange, seeing himself all around. His missions, everything.

Bucky was there too. Steve averted his eyes as he passed the panel where all of the information about Bucky was held.

He made his way to the outfits and was glad to see his old outfit there. Even though it was made in the 40's, it had stood the test of time. Sure, the red and blue wasn't as vibrant as it had once been, but Steve doubted that an enemy agent would really care about the uniform he was wearing before he killed them.

Steve quickly removed the uniform from the pedestal and folded it up, tucking it under his arm.

Without a second glance at any of his dead comrades' uniforms, Steve slipped out of the museum undetected.

When Steve got back to his apartment, Natasha was already there in uniform, lacing up her boots.

"Took you long enough," she smirked.

"Well, I had to commit a crime to get mine back," Steve gestured to the uniform he held in his hand.

"Oh, the great captain america is a thief." Natasha gave a small laugh at the statement.

Steve went into the bathroom to change and when he came out, Natasha was finishing attaching multiple guns and knives to places on her outfit.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Natasha replied.

They made their way out the door and hopped on Steve's motorcycle, bound for the Triskelion.

**Hope you enjoyed this long preparation chapter :)**

**I know Natasha may not be exactly in character, as she seems a little nicer and smiles more, but this is my take on her, so dealio with it. Okay, see you in a few days.**

** Happy Thanksgiving!**


	13. Destruction&Tight Squeezes

**Alright, new chapter! Sorry for the long wait, I have been extremely busy and just now finished this chapter. It's a bit longer than some of the others. Hope you guys enjoy!**

**Just an fyi, I know I said this a few chapters ago, but check out wolfehr's story, Our Situation. It's a Captain America story and it's just very good. Especially if you like Romanogers.**

**Also, if you want great and vivid one shots and other stories, check out DreamEscape16. Amazing writing talent that deserves some love :)**

**Okay, without further ado, please enjoy.**

**As you have all guessed, I do not own Captain America. Yup, big surprise there right?**

The ride to the Triskelion was a short one, filled with only silence and the sound of the motorcycle starting and stopping. When they went over a bump, Natasha's arms went around Steve's waist, making him blush. Although Natasha couldn't see his face, she knew what his reaction would be and smirked

"Making you uncomfortable? I'm just holding on," she said matter o' factly.

"No, please hold on. Don't want you falling off and putting us behind schedule."

Natasha tightened her grip on Steve's waist as he turned the motorcycle onto the street taking them to the Triskelion.

They rode the rest of the way and finally stopped when they reached the side of the building, a location they specifically picked for its lack of cameras.

Steve turned off the bike and Natasha hesitated slightly before letting go of him.

"Your earpiece on?" Steve asked as he got off the bike.

"Yes. Let's go take down some carriers," she replied.

Steve nodded and arranged his blue helmet on his head and put his shield in his hand. They ran together, their footsteps silent as they made their way around the building. Natasha stopped at a grate in the ground as Steve used his shield to bust it open.

"Ladies first," he said, motioning for Natasha to get into the vent.

"Gentleman," she muttered and dropped down, grabbing the ladder as she fell slightly.

"You okay?" Steve called from above.

"Yeah. Cmon down," she replied and stepped down the ladder a few more rungs.

She watched Steve try to fit through the hole and grinned.

When Steve finally did get on the ladder above her, he was breathing hard. "Dang. Tight squeeze."

"Keep your chest tucked in, soldier boy," Natasha kept moving down the rungs. It was dark in the tunnel, but she could still see slightly. The rungs went down for another hundred feet and led to another passage that would put them in the carrier hangar.

"That's soldier man to you," he replied.

The only sound in the tunnel was that of water dripping and their heels on the metal rungs.

Natasha brushed a spider web with her hand and gasped.

_"Wow. The Black Widow is afraid of a spider web. That's ironic,"_ she thought and cursed herself for being so easily scared.

She finally reached the bottom and was pleasantly surprised to find no water there to ruin her shoes.

"Onward," Steve said as Natasha led the way through the tunnel.

They finally reached another grate. Floor level, it looked out to the hangar where the carriers were.

Steve slid in front of Natasha and again used his shield to break the grate.

As soon as he did that, the grate popped out and an alarm sounded.

"I thought you said these weren't alarmed!" Natasha yelled over the noise.

"They aren't!" Steve yelled back.

Both of them looked towards the carriers and saw people around them frantically moving things out of the way. The carriers lights were blinking yellow and red hues.

"Three minutes to launch," a voice boomed over the loudspeaker.

"They're initiating launch," Natasha said.

"Ya think?" They both took off running, not caring who saw them now.

"Hey, you're no supposed to be here. It's restricted access!" a worker yelled. Steve stopped him from announcing that to anyone else by bashing his shield against the man's chest, sending him flying backwards.

"I've got carrier one and three. You take two," Steve said. "Plant the explosives where the computer chips are and then get out somehow."

"I know, Rogers. We already went over this," she said, annoyed.

"Just making sure you remembered." Steve began to run off to the third carrier before it took flight.

"Steve!" Natasha yelled. He turned around with a questioning look on his face. "Be careful." He nodded and continued off to the carrier.

Natasha ran to the carrier next to his, number two. She opened an access hatch and slid inside, once again grateful for her small size. This is how the day would go. Tunnels and hatches and explosions. Just a typical day for a spy.

She followed the air duct and soon found herself in one of the many corridors on the helicarrier.

She got out of the duct and pulled out her gun, keeping it in both hands, ready to fire. Footsteps sounded from around the hall.

"Freeze!" someone shouted as they rounded the corner.

A HYDRA agent was standing, facing Natasha. She aimed her gun as he turned and tried to flee and pulled the trigger. The man dropped down, and Natasha continued running down the hall.

It was only after she passed the man that she began thinking.

_"Did he have a family? Will he be added to the list of names that haunt my dreams? Did he have to die?" _Natasha shook her head, as if movement would drive the thoughts away and continues on.

By the time she reached the computer chips, Natasha was a happy woman. She had only run into a few other agents, all of whom hadn't been a problem.

She was setting up the explosives when a loud bang came from outside the carrier. Metal pieces flew at the windows and people outside were yelling.

_"Steve."_ Was her immediate thought. _"He must've blown up the carrier. He beat me,"_ she contemplated, slightly annoyed. So now it was up to her to dismantle the second carrier as Steve would be going to the third. She took the explosives from her pocket and stuck them to the computer mechanism. Natasha set the timer for a minute and ran back the way she had come.

On the way back, she again had no difficulties, which was strange. A top secret agency, launching an attack, had no security?

She had just finished rounding the final corner as someone stepped out from the shadows. A man with a red star on his metal arm.

"You," Natasha growled. She could once again feel the bullet tearing at her skin, making her life fade away. Causing her so much pain. All from the bullet _he_ fired.

The winter soldier smiled at her.

Natasha pulled out her gun and began firing rounds. The soldier blocked all of them with his arm and began advancing towards her.

Disgusted, she threw the now useless gun to the side and pulled out a small metal disk.

The winter soldier kept advancing, not deterred by her petty bullets.

When he got close enough, he threw multiple punches with his metal arm, one of which connected with her wounded shoulder. Natasha bit back a yell as the soldier smiled. He realigned his arm back to throw another punch, the gleaming metal shining in the dim light. His eyes were playful, as if this horror were some kind of a game. Like killing her would win him a prize.

This was not the man that Steve had so vividly described as his selfless best friend. This was a brainwashed monster.

"Better watch out," she said and smirked back at him. The soldier looked confused as he soon realized that the metal circle was stuck to his metal arm. He tried to rip it off, but not before the jolts of electricity rendered his arm useless.

Natasha sprinted past him just as she heard the explosion and felt the heat from the blast encroaching on the hallway behind her.

She kept running and jumped through one of the windows, the glass shattering all around her. She tucked and rolled out of the carrier and looked behind her as the carrier exploded, raining shrapnel everywhere. No sign of the soldier.

Now there were two smoking ruins and one carrier, which Steve was hopefully aboard. Natasha stood up, holding her wounded shoulder and picked small chances f metal out of her hand.

The pain was small, but just enough to be noticeable and annoying as beads of blood collected on her hand. She then looked up from her hand just in time to witness the third carrier start to take flight.

**New chapter weekly hopefully, as my new "schedule". I hope you all liked this chapter. If you did, please leave a review, as it helps me and my writing very much. **

**I know, this chapter featured Natasha's adventures more, but that's because the next chapter is all about Steve's "adventure", or whatever you want to call it.**

**Also, to avoid confusion, Fury is dead. Apart from the movie, Natasha and Steve never saw Maria or Fury in the cave and they don't know Sam. So, without the computer chips Maria gives them, that is why Steve and Natasha have to blow the ships up. Also, the council isn't a part of this, so Natasha doesn't have to go undercover.**

**Maybe they know Sam will later, but for right now, this is different from the movie. **

**I hope I cleared up any questions and if now, please message me :).**


	14. An Explosive Relationship

**Alright, new chapter :). This one kind of parallels CATWS, but the dialogue is different and there are explosives instead of computer chips if you hadn't figured that out. Anyways, hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: As many of you know, I am not a millionaire. By that statement, you can assume that I don't own Captain America**

Blowing up the first carrier was easy. The second one, not so much.

When Steve finally found a way into the carrier, he had fought twelve HYDRA agents and one worker that had no idea how to use a gun. Steve took care of them all fairly easily, but it was strange due to the fact that the first carrier simply had no security.

As Steve fought to catch his breath after making his way into the carrier, another HYDRA agent had a different opinion.

He snuck up behind Steve and grabbed him in a chokehold behind his back.

Steve struggled to get a grip on the agent's arm as the air was slowly being used up.

He finally got a hold and threw the agent over his shoulders with all his might. The man clattered to the floor and lay still.

Steve walked down another corridor, trying to remember which way the control panel was and trying to avoid the fact that he was essentially lost in an enemy carrier about to take off and kill millions of innocent people. No pressure.

He was making his way down yet another winding hallway when he heard the second carrier blow.

"About time, Natasha," he said under his breath. Screams filled the hangar outside and more alarms started to blare, sending the entire building into panic.

Steve turned down one more hallway and was faced with the walkway that led him to the computer chips. He marched down the walkway, the metal creaking under his boots as he stopped to pull out the explosives.

Something shuddered beneath him and Steve lost his balance, falling to the floor, the explosives skittering out of his reach. As he stood up and regained his composure, he noticed the ground beneath the glass floor of the carrier was slowly getting smaller.

The carrier was in flight. Not part of the plan.

Steve rushed to grab the explosives before the carrier got any higher. He stuck the small device to the computer panel and set the timer for five minutes, giving himself some time to find some way out of the flying death trap.

He had just finished setting the timer when he turned around to leave and his breath caught in his throat. Standing opposite him on the walkway, his arm gleaming in the small amount of sunlight that seeped through the tainted windows, stood Bucky.

His eyes were cold and unyielding, as if Steve were just a painted target. That's probably what he looked like.

"Bucky, people are going to die. I can't let that happen. Please, let me through. I can help you," Steve said, finally forcing himself to say something.

Bucky remained unmoving, his eyes slowly looking over Steve, as if he was mapping out all the weak points.

"Please don't make me do this," Steve pleaded. Bucky was in there somewhere. He was, and Steve knew it.

Bucky had remembered him just a few days ago. He would not forget again.

Seeing that Bucky would not move, in one swift motion, Steve pulled his shield off his hand and flung it at Bucky.

He quickly dodged and blocked the shield with his metal arm, sending the piece of metal back at Steve just in time for him to dodge Bucky's volley of bullets. He continued to dodge, slowly advancing towards the doorway.

When one of Bucky's bullets finally scraped Steve's side, he was unprepared and let out a shriek of pain. However, using Bucky's momentary satisfaction against him, Steve drew back and hit out with his shield, sending Bucky flying back, almost in the doorway now.

He leapt back up, a knife clenched in his metal fist, and charged, forcing Steve back further.

It took all of Steve's strength to keep the knife away from his throat as the metal plates in Bucky's arm moved up and down in a snakelike motion, drawing more power.

Steve was finally able to kick out and ducked under his shield as Bucky hammered his fist down, a loud ringing emanating from his shield afterwards.

They were now fighting back where the explosives were, the timer now reading

3:57. Steve did a double take, to make sure that he was right, and didn't see Bucky coming from in front of him, barreling down on his friend like a train. He forced Steve over the railing and they both fell to the glass floor below.

_Flashback._

_ "__How was it?" Bucky asked quietly._

_ Steve walked a little bit slower and pushed his hair out of his eyes. __"Alright. She's next to dad," he replied solemnly._

_ "__I could've given you a ride there."_

_ "__I know. Some things you just need to do on your own," Steve replied, rummaging through his pockets to find his keys. "I know what you're going to say next."_

_ "__C'mon. We could put up the couch cushions like when we were kids. All you'd have to do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash," Bucky replied in a light tone, kicking away a brick and picking up the key._

_ When he pressed it into Steve__'s hand, his hand was slightly shaking._

_ "__Thanks, Buck. But I can get by on my own," Steve said and grasped the key._

_ Bucky sighed, hoping there was some way to make his friend understand. __"But you don't have to. You'll never have to." Steve looked to Bucky with a questioning look as Bucky raised a hand and clapped Steve's shoulder. _

_ "__I'm with you until the end of the line, pal."_

_ "__You're a punk," Steve said and smiled, turning the key into the lock._

_ "__Well, at least I'm not a jerk," Bucky replied and gave a small laugh._

_End Flashback_

In the short three seconds it took Steve to fall down the the glass floor below, he realized why his life with Peggy had never seemed whole, never complete.

Bucky wasn't in it. His best friend, his brother, they had missed their whole lives together because Steve had failed to save him.

Now, as Steve looked at Bucky in a different light, his gray eyes hardened with malice, Steve vowed to save his friend, no matter what the cost would be.

**As always, please feel free to leave a review and I hope to have the next chapter up over the weekend or next Monday.**


	15. Brothers Fall Down Together

**Back for another chapter! Again, it's different from CAWS. That's pretty much it, so enjoy!**

Steve landed hard on the ground and groaned, wishing he could lay there until it was over.

But no. He had a job to do.

Bucky was coming towards him again, a knife in his hand.

"Bucky. It's me," Steve pleaded as Bucky raised the knife and brought it down.

Unprepared for his attack, Steve couldn't block fast enough and the knife went into his shoulder.

He yelled in pain and kicked Bucky away. Steve pulled the knife from his shoulder and threw it unceremoniously onto the ground. Bucky came at him again and this time it was Steve that ran towards him. He pinned Bucky down and got him into a chokehold. If Bucky was unconscious, Steve had a better chance of getting them both out alive.

Bucky stopped squirming after a few seconds and Steve quickly released his grip and checked for a pulse. It was there and Steve made up his mind to try and push the timer back a few more minutes to give them more time.

While Bucky was down, Steve ran up and vaulted off a piece of metal, landing and running forward to get to the explosives. As he was within arms reach of it, a shot was fired and Steve felt extreme pain in his upper thigh.

Looking back down, Bucky was standing below him and holding a gun. He started following Steve up as Steve reached the explosives and set in an extra five minutes.

As he turned back around, Bucky was standing there, the gun pointed at Steve's midsection.

"Bucky, don't do this. Think about what you are doing. It isn't you. It's HYDRA. They've gotten into your head."

"You lie," Bucky snarled. His voice was deeper and more raw, so unlike the light and friendly voice Steve loved.

"Why would I lie to you? Bucky, I'm not going to fight you anymore. You're my friend," Steve said as he dropped the shield.

"You're my mission!" Bucky yelled and positioned his finger on the trigger.

Steve's gaze never left Bucky's. He fired the gun and a scorching pain criss crossed all over Steve's abdomen. He bent and fell over in pain, clutching his stomach tightly. When his hands came away, his gloves were red.

"Bucky you have to get out of here," Steve gasped. "Explosives go up in a few minutes. You. Have. To. Survive." His voice was cut off by a fit of coughing, which left his lips flecked with blood. He held Bucky's gaze, hoping to make him understand. If Bucky survived, maybe he could get help and live a good life.

"Bucky. Please. I'm going to die here anyways. So you can get out happy that your mission was completed."

Something started to shift in Bucky's eyes. Almost as if he was trying to break free of his monster shell.

"You're a punk if you don't leave me now," Steve whispered as he lost consciousness.

Internally, Bucky was fighting with himself. Snippets of memories came. Almost all of them included Captain America. But he was smaller in size. However, not smaller in spirit.

_"I'm with you 'til the end of the line pal,"_ he heard himself say.

Bucky then made the split section decision to save a man he used to know.

He slung Steve's body over his shoulder and groaned under the weight. He jumped down to the lower glass level and tried to figure out how to get from the ground down. Below them was the Potomac.

No way out. Bucky didn't have to make that choice, however.

After a minute of trying to figure out how to get Steve out, the explosives went off. Bucky grabbed a metal shaft as Steve's body fell down to the water below, a mess of blue and red amidst the falling grey and black.

He could feel his shell cracking, as if the unfeeling layer of ice that had seemed to cover him was melting away. Bucky felt something for Captain America. A bond, buried deep beneath the layers of the soul that HYDRA had placed into him.

He felt the bond tugging him towards the Captain, the man who seemed to know him better than himself.

But HYDRA. Surely, if he saved Steve, there would be consequences. His mind would be wiped again, the searing agony of losing memories. The feeling that was all too familiar to him. Was he willing to go through extreme pain for a man he used to know?

Bucky let go of the metal beam without another thought. If Steve used to know him, maybe he could help him become who he once was. Of course, if Steve had survived the fall.

Once Bucky made contact with the water, he wanted out. It was ice cold and stabbed at every part of his body. No sign of Steve on the surface. He took a deep breath and put his head underwater, forcing his eyes to look through the murky water to find anything that looked like the Captain.

It was all debris. Debris and dirt, stirring at the bottom of the riverbed.

Bucky popped up to the surface, gasping for air, and swam a few yards before going down again and coming up shorthanded.

"Steve!" he yelled. He had no idea why he was yelling, but it seemed right. Bucky swam another few yards and went down again, beginning to shake from the cold.

Something caught his eye. A flash of light reflecting off of something that was not the metal debris. He swam towards that and found himself looking down on the submerged body of Captain America.

Bucky swam quickly underwater and grasped Steve's uniform, yanking his body upwards and out of the water.

Bucky swam as fast as he could back to shore, cursing under his breath about how heavy the captain was. He finally reached the shore and plopped Steve unceremoniously onto the sandy ground. A trickle of water and blood escaped Steve's lips as he gasped for air.

Bucky turned around to leave. Captain America was alive, his duty was done. Now he had to make a new life, find a new alias, create a new place to hide from the past that would chase him relentlessly forever.

His boots sunk into the watery sand as he heard something behind him.

"Bucky," a voice whispered. Bucky turned around to see Steve, bleeding out and waterlogged, laying on the beach. He couldn't have looked more different.

But his eyes. Their intense, electric blue color, unchanged over the course of the years. All of the times when Steve had looked up to Bucky with those eyes.

When he looked down as Bucky fell.

The memories came washing over him in a torrent of new information, too much for him to bear. As if the floodgates had opened in his mind, releasing years and years of memories he never knew he had. Of a life he never knew existed.

Bucky sank down onto his knees in the sand and put his head between his hands, rocking back and forth.

"Buck," Steve said again, shifting his body towards Bucky, wincing with every movement.

The memories kept coming, constant images playing in his brain.

Coney Island. Saving Steve from countless fights. Going off to war. Getting captured. Steve saving him for a change. Falling from the train. Becoming the Winter Soldier. The countless mind wipes and the never ending list of people to kill.

It was all too much to bear in one moment.

Bucky collapsed onto the ground, his vision going dark as Steve continued to yell to his brother.

**As always, feel free to leave a review. **

** Natasha will be in the next chapter, so don****'t worry, I haven't forgotten about her. I hope to get the next chapter up in under a week, hopefully Friday or Saturday, but until then, I'll see you all next week! ;)**

**Thanks to everyone for reading!**


	16. Five Hours Outside A Hospital

**I decided to upload a little early because I had the time to write this and thought, why keep it for another few days? :). So here it is. Sorry in advance if anyone is OOC(out of character). I tried my best. As always, reviews are highly appreciated! Thank you and enjoy!**

**Alright, everybody say it with me. I DON'T OWN CAPTAIN AMERICA**

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><p>Natasha watched and waited. And waited for the carrier to come down. For Steve to be alright and for HYDRA to be stopped. But as usual, good luck didn't play her a visit. She watched the third carrier take off and ran out of the building, following it from the ground as it touched the clouds in the sky.<p>

"Come on, Steve," she pleaded as the carrier stopped moving over the Potomac and stood still in the air.

The explosion made her jump and she rarely jumped at anything, cursing herself for bring so unprepared. The fiery helicarrier began steadily descending from the sky into the blue-green water of the river. "Steve!" she yelled although she doubted that he would be able to hear her over the noise. If he could still hear at all.

Metal pieces began falling from the ship as it fell, landing in the river. Natasha ran towards the river banks, turning her attention away from the carrier in order to watch her step along the uneven ground.

In a few minutes, she was adjacent from where the carrier was falling, a gun in her hand, aimed and ready to fire.

The sound of something being dropped caught her attention and she advanced forward with quiet footsteps. The small tide pushed and pulled the water from the toes of her boots back into the river. Chunks of metal had washed up on shore, grotesque shapes sticking up out of the sand everywhere she looked.

In the sand in front of her, the Winter Soldier was unconscious in the sand, his head in his hands.

Steve was a little farther up that him.

Natasha ran forward and dropped down next to the fallen soldier.

"What did he do to you?" Natasha asked, looking at all of his wounds that were leaking a steady flow of crimson blood.

"Well hello to you too," Steve replied and gave a small smirk.

"Steve," Natasha pushed.

"It wasn't him. HYDRA was controlling him," Steve whispered, his lips chapped and red from blood.

"Sure they were. We need to get you to a hospital," Natasha said as she stood up. "I don't have a phone. And I can't leave you here. Can you walk?" It was a long-shot, but the hospital was only a few miles away. Asking someone to walk whilst bleeding out was risky, but it was the better option to leaving him with a psychopath while she ran for help.

"You won't be able to get me there."

"Saying I'm weak, Rogers? You're the one approaching a hundred." Natasha snapped back as Steve cracked a smile at her remark.

Something shifted behind her and Natasha spun, the barrel of the gun meeting Bucky's head.

"I can help," he murmured.

"Sure. I'm going to let you near the man you almost killed," Natasha spat.

"I didn't mean to! They stole my memories! They broke me! You have to believe me," Bucky pleaded. There was a familiarity in his voice. Probably what she had sounded like after her first assignment, when the Red Room was still stuck in her head. The feeling that she wasn't a killer. That the body on the floor wasn't there because of her doing. Because she wasn't holding the murder weapon in her hand, the barrel still warm from when it had fired and hit its mark. Because she was still innocent, still in there somewhere, but she was poisoned. Her mind had been toiled with. People had played with it just for fun, to watch her squirm.

Probably what Bucky felt like. She knew what he was going through but tried not to show it.

But Bucky knew. Her body language screamed "uncomfortable". She was hiding something.

Natasha stood frozen.

"Natasha. He's my friend. You need his help," Steve replied for her.

"Fine. One move I don't like and that metal arm is going to be melted down to make more bullets," Natasha said.

Bucky nodded in understanding and stood up.

"Steve, you need to sit up," Natasha ordered.

He sat up slowly, a thin trail of blood leaving his lips. He did not complain, but his face was a mass of pain.

His teeth were clenched together, his breathing heavy and raspy. Natasha and Bucky grabbed under his arms and hoisted him up so that he was supported between them.

"Damn, you're heavy," Bucky said.

"Shut up," Natasha ordered and Bucky closed his mouth.

They slowly walked forward, Steve putting most of his weight towards Bucky as he limped forward on his good leg.

It was a long walk to the hospital. A nurse saw them and ordered medical attention when they were in sight.

Natasha took a large sigh when Steve's weight was literally taken off her shoulders. Nurses carried him on a stretcher and into the hospital, yelling orders and numbers as they ran.

"He'll be fine. Never did back down from a fight. Not even when he knew he'd lose," Bucky said, trying to give Natasha some confidence.

"What makes you think you can talk to me?" Natasha ordered. Her eyes were sharp and fierce, as if their gaze by themselves could make him talk.

"I-"

"You did this to him. Under mind control or not, this was done by your hand," she spat. Sure, it may be a little harsh, but Steve was God knows where inside the hospital, all because of his long lost brainwashed friend with a metal arm. She had a reason to be defensive.

"They won't let you in to see him. Not yet. If you ever want to lay eyes on him again, I suggest you either wait out here for however long it takes or you go find another long lost friend." Natasha walked into the hospital, pushing past nurses to get to the front desk and ask where Steve was.

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><p>Bucky sat on the sidewalk for five hours. Five hours of just thinking. Memories, regrets. It was strange to have feelings again.<p>

When HYDRA had him, he was trained to never have any emotion. That had started to crumble. Slowly but surely, he was starting to feel human again.

Feel, not look. He couldn't say that Natasha's words didn't hurt a little.

Steve was his friend, or, used to be anyways.

But he should have snapped out of it. He should've helped him earlier. He should not have let himself get captured on the bridge when he first remembered.

Should have. Could have. Didn't.

That was what five hours alone with your own thoughts and regrets felt like. As if the sides of your head were both going in different directions, trying to find a logical explanation to not be guilty. To find someone else to blame. But he continued to sit and fight with himself, because inside the building behind him, the only man that actually knew him was struggling for his life.

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><p>"Natasha Romanoff please report to room K32," a doctor called over the loudspeaker hours later.<p>

She shook her head and walked down the hall, psyching herself up for whatever news the doctor had.

She turned into the room, expecting to see Steve. In a bed, walking around somehow, just be somewhere in that room. But she was met with a doctor. Simply that.

"Where's Steve?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Still in surgery. We are doing the best we can, but his wounds are very severe. However, the serum is affecting his healing rate in a positive way," the doctor stated.

"What are you saying? That Steve won't make it?" Natasha replied.

"I'm saying that the surgery is taking longer than expected. With his healing rate increased, things are healing over before we can completely fix them. We anticipate to be working through through the night."

"And?"

"We don't have a place for you here to stay. The chairs are uncomfortable, and given his record, we would like this to stay as low key as possible."

"So you're saying I shouldn't stay here tonight?" she questioned.

"I'm saying you can't. If people see the Black Widow in a hospital, they will know something is up. If you refuse to leave, I am sorry to say that you will have to be forcibly removed. Come back tomorrow morning and the surgery should be over," the doctor smiled.

"I can't leave him!"

"I'm sorry, you have to," the doctor said and left the room.

She couldn't leave him. Not in this state. But it was either stay and get kicked out or leave willingly.

For one of the first times in her life, Natasha left willingly.

When she got outside, Bucky was sitting on the sidewalk, deep in thought. He heard her footsteps and looked up

"How is he? That's all I want to know," he pleaded.

Natasha paused for a moment before answering. She wanted to invite him back to Steve's place, where she was sleeping for the night, but she couldn't trust him. Not that much. Not after what he did.

"He's still in surgery. Doctor said to come back in the morning."

"Alright. I'll find somewhere. Thank you," Bucky replied and smiled.

Natasha turned on her heel and walked towards the street, where she followed it down until she reached the apartment. Standing alone under the dim outside light, she took a deep breath before finding the key, turning the lock, and walking inside.

Sure, it was probably wrong to be in a person's house that she had barely met a week ago. But she had done worse things in her life. Getting into a house was the least of her crimes.

Her heart started to pump faster, her breathing becoming faster as well.

All of the memories. All of the people she killed. All the lives she ruined.

"Calm down. Calm down," she told herself quietly, taking shallow and steady breaths to calm herself. "It's in the past. In the past."

That was her problem. She was constantly haunted by her past, haunted by all of the red. Would it ever be washed away?

She shook her head as if to clear the memories away and grabbed a blanket from the side of the couch, laying down as she tried to fall asleep.

**I hope you all liked it! I also figured out how to finally do the gray lines :). So hopefully it will be easier for you guys to see from the different perspectives. I will be posting more often over winter break because I will have the time. Happy holidays!**


	17. Skeletons of the Past and Present

**Back with another short chapter before Christmas! This just capitalizes on Natasha's past. The story picks up again next chapter, and I think many of you will enjoy what is to come in two chapters ;). Merry Christmas!**

**Why do I have to keep saying that I don't own Captain America? I know this already…**

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><p>As usual, the calm blackness of her subconscious only lasted an hour or so before the skeletons came. She was surrounded, without weapons, helpless. Surrounded by the faces of people she had killed, young and old. Their blood gushed onto the floor, warming her boots as they continued to approach her.<p>

"Why did you do it?" a young girl asked Natasha, her head lolling to the side in a doll-like fashion.

"It-it wasn't me. They were controlling me. They put thoughts in my head. They forced me into submission," she stammered.

"They," the little girl whispered. "Funny how you blame them when you were the one holding the gun. You could have stopped yourself. But you were so afraid of them that you would do anything to save yourself. Including murdering an innocent witness."

"They would have killed me if I didn't listen," Natasha said back, trying to prove a point. To find a way to not be guilty.

"You could have saved us. Instead, you chose to save yourself."

The blood flowed faster until it was drowning her. She sputtered, forcing the liquid out from around her face.

"I had no choice!" she screamed until the blood began to sink down, away from her form. She collapsed to the ground, her hair sticky with the crimson liquid, her breath ragged as she struggled to keep her tears hidden. "I thought that maybe I was doing something good. My mind was corrupted. It wasn't my fault. I regret what I did."

"Yet you still have nightmares about what you did," a voice whispered from the darkness around her as the corpses began to dissipate into smoke around her.

All of the faces. The hundreds of people she had killed. Innocents, guilty, maybe neither, they all haunted her. She found no remorse in their dead eyes as they haunted her dreams. No matter how much she tried to forget what she had done, it would follow her forever. Because one way or another, she would always be the one to blame. She was the direct cause of their demise.

"Maybe you should feel the bullets for a change," the voices continued.

Figures appeared out of the smoke, each one holding a gun. They all took aim, hundreds of weapons on her.

They all fired, tearing her flesh in places until she was the one lying, bleeding out on the floor, instead of them.

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><p>Once again, Natasha woke up with tears streaked across her cheeks, gasping for breath. It took her a moment to realize that she was in Steve's apartment, sleeping on the couch. It was dead quiet in the room, the only sound coming from her as she fought to regain her composure.<p>

The past was the past, but she was still haunted by it.

As her life as an assassin went on, the number of faces would only increase. Her nightmares would get worse until they would most likely drive her insane.

So she could stick to being an assassin, the only thing she knew how to do, and eventually be driven mad, or she could find something else to do with her life. The second option wasn't really an option at all. More like a wish that she wanted to be able to have, but it would always be out of her reach.

Her breathing back to was normal. The clock only read 12:24. She wanted it desperately to go faster. But staying up until the morning was not an option if she wanted to be able to march into the hospital in the morning as if she owned the place.

She fell back into a light doze as her mind persisted on not letting her sleep.

"Natasha," a voice said. Once again, she was in a nightmarish version of her past. Although, this time, she was back on the beach, watching Steve bleed out before her eyes. The Winter Soldier was nowhere to be seen, but the damage he had caused was evident.

"Steve!" she yelled and ran towards him. He gave a small smile, his teeth red with blood.

"What took you so long?"

"I had to find you. Oh gosh. Steve, what happened?" she asked as she struggled to apply pressure to all of his wounds. His eyes were open slightly, his usually bright blue eyes had faded to a blueish gray.

"Why didn't you get here faster?" he asked, struggling to understand why his partner would take so long to save him.

"I had no idea where you were," she started. "Steve. Eyes open. You are not leaving me."

"Easy for you to say. You aren't the one in a wrestling match with death."

His eyes closed. The blood continued to flow out of his wounds, covering the slits in between her fingers.

"Steve, Steve. You have never given up before. I will not let you give up now," Natasha said as she shook him slightly. He did not respond. She checked for a pulse, but was not met with one. Her bloodstained fingers left a red mark on his neck as she sat back and took her hands away from his body.

Because of her, Steve was dead. If she had just been faster, gotten there sooner, she could have helped.

Sure, someone else had injured him, but it had been up to her to save him and she had failed. Again.

She sat back into the sand, defeated. This was one of the worse nightmares. She was close to saving someone, to maybe redeeming part of her soul, but as usual, she was not successful. Even though he was alive in real life, for now, his face would begin to haunt her dreams because in an alternate version of reality, she had failed to save him.

Maybe she had still failed to save him. For all Natasha knew, Steve was dead in the hospital, waiting for someone to take him away.

When she awoke again, sunlight was starting to stream through the window. Natasha got up off the couch and filled up a glass with water. She drank it all in one gulp, trying to rid herself of the sweat that was sheening her brow. Her hand shook as she set the glass down.

Natasha then pulled on her boots and left the house, bound for the hospital. The cool air bit at her exposed skin, making her feel alive, reminding her that this was real life, that she still had a job to do. The walk there was quiet one, so quiet that she could almost hear the ghosts of her past following her, plaguing her thoughts, waiting for the right time to render her useless to the rest of the world.

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><p><strong>I hope you all enjoyed! The next chapter is almost done and should be up on Friday. Happy Holidays!<strong>


	18. The Breakout

**New chapter, late at night, yay :). As always, I hope you guys enjoy!**

**I don't own Marvel.**

The hospital was mostly quiet, which was strange for a hospital in the middle of a busy city. No nurses were rushing around, in fact, no one was around to begin with. No weeping family members, no new parents, simply no one.

Natasha went up to the second floor and stopped by the front desk where a single attendant was typing at a computer. "I'm looking for Steve Rogers. What room is he in?" she asked.

"He's still in surgery," the woman at the desk replied and went back to looking at the computer as if Natasha was not even present.

"He was in surgery yesterday. He should be out by now."

"There were complications. If you want, the doctor is down the hall to the right," she replied.

Natasha spun away on her heel, almost running down the hall. Something was not right, anyone would be able to tell that. She heard a large smash when she reached the end of the hall, but on the left side. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, Natasha pulled out her gun and advanced slowly down the left corridor. A normal corridor, with windows to the outside on the left and windows to the rooms on the right.

"Let me go!" a man yelled, his voice very familiar.

A man suddenly flew out one of the glass panels separating the hallway from the room.

Natasha ran towards the man. He was dressed in HYDRA gear, a gun in his hands. His head rolled to the side, blood dripping from a gash the glass had made in his cheek.

She advanced towards the room and peered around the broken glass.

"Sedative," someone ordered. The same doctor that had told her to leave yesterday was pressing the plunger down in a long syringe into a man's arm.

Natasha moved slightly and set her eyes on the man's face who was receiving the sedative.

Surrounded by the doctor and four other HYDRA agents, wrapped in bandages, was Steve. Scarlet drops of red were showing through the wraps that covered his midsection and his bright blue eyes were only half open. If they wanted to keep Steve sedated, they would have to use extremely strong medicine.

Natasha knew that she had to act fast. She took aim and fired at the closest agent. He collapsed onto the floor as the other agents looked at her and drew their own weapons. She fired twice more, two more men dropping to the floor as the doctor hid and the last agent advanced.

Natasha drew out her widow bites. She dropped down as the man fired, narrowly missing her arm as she engaged the weapons and electrocuted the man. He dropped down and convulsed for a few seconds before laying still.

The only people in the room now were her, an unconscious Steve, and a cowering doctor.

"What did you do to him?" Natasha ordered as she approached the doctor.

"Maybe nothing. Maybe something. But he will be to sick to tell you anything. Hail HYDRA," he said and crunched down on something. Foam covered his lips as the cyanide worked its way through his body until he too dropped dead.

"Steve," Natasha whispered as she came around to his bed.

He was not wearing a shirt and bandages were wrapped around his midsection, where his main wound was. Sweat glistened over the smooth muscles in his chest, as they contracted and relaxed with his uneven breaths. There were more pieces of cloth around his shoulder and thigh, all turning a light shade of pink.

"Steve," she tried again and was met by his eyes opening slightly.

"Hey Natasha," he whispered.

There was no way to get him out by herself, he was simply to heavy. Unless...

She looked out the window and saw in the distance, still by the front of the hospital, Bucky was curled up on the grass. He was sitting up, his knees pulled into his chest, his arms slung around his legs. He had not left over the course of the cold night, instead, he had offered his support for Steve, even though Steve had no idea where he was. In Bucky's mind, just being around Steve in hard times was enough to comfort him.

The window was simply a glass pane and had no way of opening, so she simply stood back and kicked the glass, watching as it fell onto the pavement below.

That got Bucky's attention as his eyes snapped open and alert, and followed the falling glass up to where Natasha was.

Natasha made a waving motion for him to come up. "Can you get up through here?" she whispered down to him.

Bucky nodded and pulled a grappling hook out of his belt. He threw it up and climbed until he had jumped into the room next to Natasha.

"Look, putting everything aside, we both care about Steve. HYDRA is in control here, probably sending more men as we speak. I need your help to get him out of here. Can I trust you?" Natasha asked.

"He's my brother. I would do anything to make sure he is safe," Bucky replied. "How can I help?"

Natasha went to Steve's side and Bucky did the same. "Lift on three. One, two, three!" Natasha grunted with the effort of lifting the heavy soldier up, until he was in a sitting position on the edge of the table. More red spots started to show through his bandages.

"Ow," Steve murmured, his eyes starting to open a little more as the sedative started to wear off.

"What now?" Bucky asked.

"We need to get him out of here. The hallway isn't an option. So, how do you feel about lowering a super soldier through a window?"

A look of confusion crossed Bucky's face as he realized that she was serious.

"I can hold a rope up here while you repel down, holding Steve." Bucky looked at her as if she was insane, which she was at least a little. But he knew that it was the only way to get Steve out safely. It was only two stories to the ground.

"What then?"

"I have a friend I can call to come and pick us up and take us somewhere safe," she replied.

"This friend is…?" Bucky questioned.

Natasha grabbed a rope from one of the nearby tables that had probably been used while cleaning the windows and wrapped it around the table, which was stuck securely to the floor. She handed one end to Bucky before replying, "all in good time."

Bucky let out an annoyed breath and gave a small curse as he lifted Steve up, fireman style, and grabbed onto the rope. Natasha held on and bent backwards, giving extra support as Bucky climbed carefully out the window.

Natasha waited a moment before the rope went slack. She looked outside to see Bucky, supporting Steve in an upright position, give her a thumbs-up.

She positioned herself and grabbed the rope as she began repelling down the building.

"Freeze!" someone yelled as she went out the window. Agents had burst into the room, weapons ready. Natasha let go of the rope, falling for about ten feet before tucking and rolling upon landing. Her shoulder screamed in agony as she stood up fast and put an arm around Steve so that she and Bucky were supporting him.

"Go, now!" she yelled.

HYDRA agents started peering out the window, each yelling for more weapons and that the prisoner was getting away. Typical.

Natasha activated her earpiece and called the man she hoped could help.

"Hey, little red. How's life?" Tony Stark's voice filled her head with annoyance. Sure, she couldn't stand the man, but right now, she needed his help. Steve needed help.

"Look, no time for formalities. Steve's badly wounded. We're outside the hospital with HYDRA agents closing in. We could use a ride," she stated as she and Bucky began to move away from the building.

"The great Black Widow, the do-it-yourselfer, the loner, the-"

"If you call me one more name I will personally hunt you down and kill you," Natasha reeled.

Tony may not have known much about women, but he did know that when Natasha made death threats, especially on his life, she was serious. "On my way. Meet you in five," Stark finished as the line went silent.

"How you holding up Steve?" Bucky asked as they ducked behind a wall of the hospital, hidden from view.

"Could be better. Yourself?" Steve replied, wincing as he stopped moving.

"Better knowing you're alright," Bucky responded and gave a small smirk. It hurt like hell for him to see Steve this way, beaten up and bloodied. But he was used to it. All the fights on the streets, everything he had done, Steve had always fought through it. No way a bunch of metal spheres would get him down.

**Dun dun dun daaaaaa, Avengers are coming next chapter! So be sure to stick around ;). Thanks for reading.**


	19. The Avengers

**New chapter! Sorry, it's a little short, but I was pressed for time and had to upload something :). As always, I hope you guys enjoy!**

**I don't own Marvel**

Even though Stark was there to help, Natasha couldn't hide the annoyance on her face when he drove up in a nice, black sports car with white leather on the inside.

He rolled down the window and looked upon the injured super-soldier through sunglasses that has slid halfway down his nose.

"Now, if I had known you were going to be that injured, I would've brought another car," Tony stated.

"I told you," Natasha mumbled. She pulled the car door open and Bucky carefully slid Steve into the backseat of the car.

The awkward moment came when both Natasha and Bucky tried to sit back there with him.

"He's my friend," Bucky tried.

Natasha slid past Bucky and into the backseat next to Steve. "No," was all she needed to say. Bucky quietly opened the passenger's door and got in next to Tony.

"Woah woah woah," Tony said, putting his hands up in a defensive stance. He turned around and whispered to Natasha, "isn't he that crazy HYDRA monster?"

Natasha put her palm to her forehead. "Stark! In case you haven't noticed, Steve is bleeding out here. We need to get him to the tower right now. If the man sitting next to you was completely crazy, he would be dead in a ditch by now. Drive," Natasha ordered.

Tony turned back to the front of the car and took another glance at Bucky, mumbling about how they didn't need another crazy person at the tower.

The car started and as they drove off, Natasha watched the hospital get smaller behind them, HYDRA agents still scouring for the super-soldier that has fled the scene.

Halfway to the tower, Steve's eyes were starting to close. His bandages were fairly blood-soaked and doing nothing to help Steve's wounds. HYDRA hadn't done a very good job, possibly what they had wanted to do. Natasha fumbled for his hand and kept her breathing steady as she measured his pulse. Slightly below normal.

"Steve, I need you to stay awake. We're almost to the tower," Natasha told him.

He nodded slightly and forced his eyes open more.

Tony drove up to the tower's entrance and once again Bucky and Natasha helped Steve out. Soon they were in the elevator, headed up to the communal floor.

"JARVIS, let Banner know that we need him," Tony spoke.

"I have, sir. He is already on the communal floor," JARVIS responded. Natasha had never gotten used to the AI. Even though JARVIS was nice enough, it felt strange talking to nothing and then that nothing would respond back.

The elevator doors clicked open and the other superheroes looked on with curious glances. Thor and Clint looked up from their game of chess and Bruce looked on from the kitchen.

Bruce came forward first and said, "I need him down on the medical floor, right now."

Bucky nodded, as it was clear he was going nowhere. Natasha slipped out from under Steve and let Bruce take her place. They went back into the elevator and soon disappeared from sight.

"Lord Steven, will he be alright?" Thor's voice boomed.

Natasha pushed a few strands of hair from her face and sat down. "I don't know. Hopefully. But he has major wounds and was in HYDRA's "care". So I have no idea," she said, avoiding their glances.

"What about Fury?" Tony called from the kitchen, sipping on a bottle of water, apparently not worried at all about the situation at hand.

Natasha got up and pushed past the other men to the elevator. Her expression was clear that she didn't want to talk about it. The elevator closed and she tapped the button for her floor.

Once Natasha got to her floor, she went right to her room and closed the door. She turned on the water in the bathroom and began washing off her face, which was covered in dirt and dust. No way presentable. She watched the grayish red water swirl down the drain, disappearing out of sight.

She turned off the water and looked in the mirror, patting her face dry.

It was in silence and solitude that she let her mind wander.

_"What if he doesn't make it? What if HYDRA did to him what they did to Bucky?"_ she asked herself.

She had already lost Fury, the man that was as close to family as she would ever have. Sure, he was a pain sometimes, but he knew her, he understood.

And Steve. Could she really be attracted to a man she met a week ago? A man that is her complete opposite.

A quiet knock on her door disrupted her thoughts. She padded over to the door and opened it slightly. Standing on the other side was Clint.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she simply replied.

"Can I come in?" Natasha opened the door fully and Clint stepped into the room.

"I know well enough to not ask you if you're okay, because I know you're not," he stated, looking at her eyes, which kept scanning the room, never resting on him.

"Thank you for saving me the pain of having to talk more than I want to," Natasha replied and sat gingerly on the bed.

"I'm sure Steve will be alright. From what I've heard, he doesn't go down without a fight. Especially now that he has his friend by his side, recovering should be easier."

She looked up at him, at the playful smirk speed across his face. Leave it to Clint to try and make her feel better.

"Who's going to lead us now that Fury is gone? SHIELD was compromised. Pierce is still leading HYDRA with an iron fist. We have no idea of knowing who is loyal and who is a traitor," Natasha sighed.

"Well," Clint said, sitting down next to her. "I know six people for sure that are with us. Thor, Bruce, Steve, Maria, me, and as much as I hate to say it, Tony," he smirked.

"Yeah, you have a point."

"We can start over. There's always going to be evil. As long as there's someone to keep it at bay, we'll be alright. I'm not going anywhere."

What Natasha loved most about Clint was that she could be herself. Let a little of her softer interior show. He was the one person that she constantly wouldn't push away. He knew her past, he already knew the darkest things about her, what she had done. And yet he still chose to live in the same building as her. Hell, he still chose to talk to her. If Tony knew what she had done, what she had been through, he would die of fear for ever making fun of her.

But it also entertained Natasha that if Stark ever got too annoying, she could always strike fear into his heart. Maybe that would be better for everyone, but she decided to keep the thought to herself.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Thanks, Clint."

He smiled in response before gingerly getting up. "I'm going to go see if Bruce needs any help. You, however, need a shower," he said, putting his fingers to his nose.

She punched him playfully on the arm with a smile on her face as he left and closed the door behind him.

On the medical floor, Bruce had Steve set up in a room with heavy sedatives pumping into his arm. He gingerly removed the bandages as the captain's blood spilled over his side. Too much blood if he had been bandaged properly, which he hadn't.

The wounds were open and weeping crimson, no sign of stitches on any of them. As Bruce inspected Steve's stomach wound, he could see a glint of metal inside the wound. HYDRA had simply put a bandage over the wounds. The bullet was still inside Steve and the wounds were open.

"Crap," Bruce muttered under his breath. If he were to help Steve, he had his work cut out for him. Quite simply, he was running out of time. Even a super-soldier couldn't stand to lose most of his blood.

**I am sorry to say, but school is starting again and I will have to go back to updating once a week. Sorry again :(**


	20. Scars From The Past

**First of all, I would just like to IMMENSELY apologize for not updating within a week. I have a busy weekend and studying for honors finals is taking up my entire life. I hope you guys can forgive me ;). I made this chapter a little longer to hopefully make up for being late. Alright, Chapter 20! Thanks to everyone that has stuck with the story so far! As always, I hope you like this late update.**

**I don't own Cap.**

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><p>Natasha sat on her bed for a while after getting out of the shower. Her hair was completely dry by the time she decided to leave the room. It had felt good to watch the dirty water spiral down the drain, feel the water clean the blood off her hands. The blood that she could see, anyways.<p>

There was blood all over her, the kind that she would never be able to wash out. The kind that burrowed its way into her mind.

She was simply contemplating, letting her mind play with itself.

She and Steve were complete opposites. He was pure and honest. She had killed hundreds and lied her way through the bigger twisted reality she continued to call life. If she did like him and he reciprocated her feelings, the ghosts of her past would come for him. She couldn't drag him into the mess she had created.

If he survived. She put her head in her hands and took a deep breath before opening the door and leaving her room, bound for the communal floor.

The surgery took four hours. Four terrible, grueling hours that Bucky sat in a chair outside the operating room, wondering what to do next.

Bruce spent those four hours removing the bullets and stitching Steve up.

Steve spent those hours unconscious, an IV dripping into his arm and an oxygen mask affixed to his face. It was not a restful sleep. He was visited by all kinds of ghosts, the ones he would rather keep hidden, the ones he had chosen to forget.

Tony was watching TV, not letting the stressful situation get to him on the outside. On the inside, he was intensely worried for Steve.

Thor and Clint had gone back to their game of chess, trying to relax themselves.

Natasha spent the hours worrying before finally joining everyone else.

Every person spent their hours differently, no matter how they showed it, they were all worried about the super-soldier. The man they knew both so much and so little about.

Bruce finally emerged from the medical floor, Bucky at his heels. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stood up, waiting for the news.

"What is it? Is Steve alright?" Natasha asked anxiously.

"Yes and no," Bruce replied. "I stitched his wounds and he is accepting fluids. The problem is that he lost the majority of his blood."

Natasha looked to Bucky, who looked to the floor. The guilt was crushing him. All of Steve's pain, because of what he did.

"I can't use transplant blood because that would dilute the serum in his body more than it already is. The only option is to watch over him and hope that his body recovers," Bruce finished.

"Can I see him?" Natasha asked impatiently.

"Well, I-"

"I wasn't asking," Natasha stated as she entered the elevator. Bruce followed and they went down to the medical floor.

Bucky stood by the doors, and when his eyes finally did lift, they were glassy with tears.

Thor came over and clapped a strong hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Do not worry. Lord Steven will be alright. He is a strong warrior," he said with a smile.

"Yeah, Capsicle hasn't survived all these years by being weak," Tony pointed out.

Bucky smirked. "Something is funny?" Thor questioned.

"I helped him survive when he was still skinny Steve. Now I'm just hurting him, even when he's strong," Bucky said solemnly.

"It's not your fault. HYDRA brainwashed you. You know that," Clint replied.

"I got captured. That's my fault. I let them burrow in, my fault. I have murdered _children_ without remorse. All my fault," Bucky snarled. "You don't understand." He stomped off and got into the elevator, headed for the roof to clear his head.

"Guy's got some problems," Tony said sarcastically when Bucky had gone, turning back to his TV show.

"You don't get it do you?" Clint asked Stark.

"What?" Tony asked, oblivious.

"He blames himself for doing all those things. He is the only one Steve has left. But you don't understand that," Clint snapped back.

"Hey, I've known Steve longer than any of you," he said, amused by their looks of confusion. "My dad fished him out of the ice. As a kid, Steve would visit a lot to catch up with my old man. When he died, Steve simply stopped coming. Simple as that."

"Maybe you don't have the whole story," Clint rebuffed.

"I think I've got it down alright, Legolas," Tony replied and turned the TV louder.

"Can we not focus on the past and instead on the present? Lord Steven will need our help," Thor said, trying to stop Clint and Tony from doing anything else.

Tony ignored him. "Your move," Clint said quietly. Thor moved and their game continued, the issues of the past buried for a little longer.

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><p>Bruce led Natasha into the room where Steve was being held. She was not prepared for what she saw.<p>

The strong man's complexion was the same as the white sheets he was wrapped up in. He was shirtless, nicer bandages covering his midsection and shoulder. His breathing was uneven, sweat sheening his brow.

That thing that really struck Natasha was simply how pale he was.

"Can I?" she asked tentatively.

"I'll leave you two alone," Bruce said and walked out the door.

Natasha walked over to his bed with quiet feet and sat down in the chair next to him. She took his big hand in hers, jumping at how cold it was. A heart monitor was stuck to his index finger, the readings displayed on a monitor next to the bed.

"Hey, soldier," she whispered and gave a sad smile. _Damn these tears_, she thought as she blinked the mist from her eyes.

"Look, I know you and I don't know each other very well, but that doesn't mean that I don't care. I need you to hold on. We need you to be here. We need a leader, a captain," she smirked. "I know it must be hard for you, but I can't lose anyone else. Bucky wouldn't be able to live knowing he killed his only friend."

She squeezed his hand once and left, closing the door softly behind her. Natasha never was one to be giving comfort in hard times. She was usually the one receiving the comfort or the one causing the hard times. Without stopping back at the communal floor, she went straight up to her room to do more thinking.

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><p>Hours later, when everyone else had gone to bed, Bucky snuck down to see Steve. A sweatshirt and loose pants covered his assassin's attire, as well as his metal arm.<p>

He sucked in a breath as he reached Steve's room. It hurt him to see his friend like this, but it hurt more knowing he did his.

"Hey, Steve," he murmured as he stood at Steve's bedside. "I hope you're doing alright. I know you're going to make it through this. You survived childhood, so you can survive anything," he said and gave a small smile. "But every time I look at you, the only thing I will see is that scars I caused. That is not how I want to remember my brother. I must go. You'll see me again, I promise. Be strong, you punk."

Bucky made his way up to Steve and took his cold hand in his real one, the metal arm dangling uselessly at his side. "And that Natasha dame, she's into you. Don't do anything stupid to mess it up. So don't be the way you usually were in relationships before Peggy came along," he said and gave a chuckle, letting Steve's hand down gently.

He walked towards the door and took another glance at Steve, pale against the sheets. He was doing the right thing. Preventing the monster from ever hurting Steve again was all he could do.

He may be fine now, but inside, he could feel the darkness surging, fighting back. And he didn't know how long he could keep it hidden.

He was a ticking clock, with darkness ready to explode at any moment.

Bucky got into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground level floor. "Jarvis?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Barnes?" the AI asked. Bucky smirked at being called Mr.

"Tell no one where I am going. I don't even know myself. Tell Steve goodbye for me."

"Your request has been confirmed. Have a nice night, Mr. Barnes," Jarvis replied as the elevator doors slid open.

Bucky stepped out and pulled his hoodie up over his head and made sure it covered his metal arm.

Under the cover of darkness, the broken man faded into the city bathed in night.

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><p>Steve was floating. Somewhere far off, he heard Natasha and Bucky talking to him, but he couldn't make out their words. As if they were talking to him through layers of water when the voices stopped, he drifted back into the blackness.<p>

This time, however, a figure was waiting for him. Peggy stood, facing him, her military uniform spotless, brown curls spilling over her elegant shoulders, red lips curved upwards in a smile. It was her eyes that intrigued him. Dark and intelligent, but also lively.

"Hello, Steve," she said in her British accent as she walked over to him.

"Peggy," he breathed. He looked down and saw that he, too, was in his brown military attire. "Where am I?"

"Your mind most likely," she said matter 'o' factly and with a curt smile.

"What am I doing here?" he asked as she walked closer to him.

"I am just a figment of your subconscious, Steve. I don't have the answers."

She was now standing directly in front of him. He wrapped his hands gently around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and he sighed. Even though he knew she was not real, she felt so real. He could feel her smooth arms under his hands and he could smell the sweet fragrance that wafted off her.

"I miss you so much," he murmured.

"I know," she replied. "But we had our time together."

Steve withdrew from the hug and placed his hands on her shoulders, staring into her captivating eyes. "Without you, there's no one here to understand me."

"You have Bucky," she replied and smirked.

"Yes. It is nice having him back. I wouldn't trade it for the world." The light around him began to fade, dimming and brightening at random intervals. "What's going on?"

"As I said, I have no idea," she said softly.

He felt his grip on her loosening, as if she were fading away in front of him. "Will I see you again?"

"I'm sure you will. You have plenty of near-death experiences," she laughed. Her clear, joyous voice echoed all around him, rich and sweet. One of his favorite things about her was the laugh she hardly ever uttered. When she did laugh, however, it breathed life into whatever room the was in. He had almost forgotten what it sounded like, she laughed so little in her later years.

His eyes began misting over and he wiped the wetness away. He wasn't ready to let her go, he never would be. But he knew he had to eventually.

Something started pulling him away from her, some force, dragging him back. "I love you!" he yelled into the void.

"I love you too!" she called back. And then she was gone, the blackness enveloping him.

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><p>"Peggy," Steve was muttering, still half asleep.<p>

Natasha got up from the chair next to his bed and nudged his arm slightly. He had just woken up and she would have to break the news to him.

"Steve," she whispered.

His eyes opened lazily, their blueness no less intense.

"Hey, soldier, how you feeling?" Natasha asked.

"Alright for being a human target," he said quietly and cracked a small smile. "What are you doing here?"

Natasha took a deep breath. It was late afternoon. She was completely covered in dirt from head to toe as a result of running around the city all day trying to find Bucky.

"Where's Bucky?" Steve asked, his eyes opening a little more. "He would want to be here when I wake up."

"I'm sorry, Steve," Natasha started and watched his wounded face drop even further. "Bucky left the tower last night. We searched all day, no signs of him. Bucky's gone."

Steve sagged back against the pillow "Bucky," he mouthed. "No."

**Please R&R if you liked it :) I have finals next friday, both honors finals on the same day. I can't promise an update over the weekend, but it is a 3-day weekend, and I will try my absolute best. Thanks for reading!**


	21. The Museum

**New chapter ;) I hope you guys like it. A little longer chapter this time, but not too much happens. Next chapter you will get some action, I promise.**

**I took a few scenes from the Marvel movies and changed them a little. See if you can figure them out and comment if you think you have them. There's two main scenes.**

**As always, please R&R if you enjoyed.**

**I don't own ANYTHING Marvel related.**

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><p>In three days, the wounds were scars. On the fourth day, Steve insisted upon walking around and getting on with his life, despite the pain he still felt. Putting on pants was the easy part. It was getting the shirt up and over his head that was the problem.<p>

Tony had given him his own floor, since the tower had plenty and because Steve had no where else to go.

A soft knock sounded at Steve's door and he spun around, the shirt stuck on his hair.

"Who is it?" he questioned and tried to shimmy the shirt down.

"Natasha. Let me in, Steve," she said. Her tone sounded urgent.

"Fine." The door cracked open and Natasha smirked as she saw his state.

"Need some help, Captain?"

"Maybe," he replied sheepishly. She came up behind him and slid the shirt down his arms and off his head with nimble hands. He adjusted it quickly before looking at her again.

"I can't tell you how many times Clint has had to help me with clothes after a fight. It's no problem. Your 1940s modesty is showing." A blush crept up his cheeks.

"You had to tell me something?" he pressed.

She took a deep breath before explaining further. Her red hair seemed to blaze in the morning light, even more so than before. He shook the thought away.

"We have a lead. A camera picked up a suspicious looking man at the Smithsonian a few minutes ago. It could be Bucky, but we have no idea."

Steve walked to his dresser and pulled out a hoodie, grimacing as he slid it on.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he walked out of the room.

"What do you think?"

"It may not even be him. He may not want to be found," Natasha stated.

"It's him. I know it. If you let me leave, maybe I can still catch him," Steve replied as he got into the elevator and Natasha got in with him.

"It will take you hours by car. He could be gone by the time you get there"

The elevator dinged and Steve smiled as he got out. "See you later, Natasha."

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><p>The drive to Washington DC took Steve a little over three hours by motorcycle. When he finally stopped at the museum, he found a parking space and pulled his hoodie up, walking inside.<p>

He refused to look at anyone while he was getting his ticket and slipped in without a second glance.

Captain America, going back to the museum where his exhibit was. Steve had to admit, he did feel strange when surrounded by all the memorabilia, _his_ life.

The exhibit was crowded with people, young and old. He simply looked around, admiring what the museum had been able to collect of his old life. His entire existence, all in one place. Before, during, and after the war, it was all there. In heart-wrenching accuracy and detail.

"Can I help you, sir?" someone asked. Steve turned around and saw an elderly security guard with a small smile on his face. He had a snow white mustache and his hair was hidden beneath a security cap.

"No, thanks," Steve mumbled.

The guard leaned closer and whispered something. "Don't worry, I won't tell anybody, Cap." When he pulled away, he winked. The guard made rounds in the room and left.

Steve wandered around for a moment, smiling at the children doing action poses in front of their parents' camera. He stopped at the exhibit that held the Howling Commandos' uniforms. A man was seated at the bench, looking at the uniforms.

Steve watched him for a moment and soon the man got up. A clean face and deep brown eyes. Steve's heart fell. Where was Bucky?

He walked back to where Bucky's information was in the exhibit, displayed on glass panels. Another man was looking at it intently. A cap covered most of his long hair and his hands were hidden in the long sleeves of his jacket.

The man turned from the exhibit and Steve caught a glimpse of him.

"Bucky," Steve whispered.

Bucky did not see Steve and exited the museum. Naturally, Steve followed Bucky as he walked down the sidewalk. They exited the museum and turned down one of the streets that led to a winding sidewalk in a park. Steve still followed with quiet footsteps.

"I'm not coming back," his voice rang out, making Steve stop in his tracks. Bucky turned back and looked at Steve with sad eyes. "Every time I see you, I will be reminded of what I did. I need to figure this out," he said and turned back around and started walking.

Steve ran up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Bucky tensed under his grip and turned around again.

"I'm not letting you go," Steve said forcefully.

"You let me go once. You can do it again," he replied. His eyes were pleading, his features tired and almost confused.

Steve shook his head as Bucky stood with a quizzical look on his face. "I never let you go. Never," Steve said.

He pulled out a picture of him and Bucky from his jacket pocket. It was the image he carried with him wherever he went. He even carried it in the compartment belt on his uniform when he went on missions. The picture was old and the paper was yellowing. It was an image of them and the Howling Commandos, taken during the war. Everyone was serious and warlike, but a smirk played on Bucky's lips. Steve's face was set hard in a commanding way that Bucky found hilarious since people were usually giving Steve the orders.

Bucky looked at it for a moment, intensely studying it, before pushing it away. He could see the memory in front of his eyes, but it was faded. He struggled to remember the other men in their unit and eventually became fed up with himself. His ability to not remember the men that had saved his life multiple times, and he theirs was painful. "That's not me. Not anymore. I'm broken."

"I can help-"

Bucky cut him off. "Until I hurt you again?!" he yelled. "It's just a matter of time. I can feel it. You'll be sleeping one moment and dead the next. Your blood will be on my hands, Steve. I can't control it," he said. "This is the one thing I can control. How far I am away from you so that I won't be tempted to hurt you. I'm sorry Steve. I need to do this alone." He left without a second glance, his eyes trained on the grass below his feet.

"I'm with you till the end of the line," Steve called out.

Bucky kept walking, shoving his hands into his pockets as he went.

Steve turned around to walk back to the Smithsonian, knowing that pursuing Bucky was futile. Still, he turned around one more time, hoping to see Bucky as he walked off into the city. There was no Bucky.

The ghost had done what he knew best. Vanished.

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><p>"How did it go?" Natasha asked curiously when Steve got back to the tower late in the afternoon. She noticed that he was the only one and her face fell. "I'm sorry, Steve."<p>

He sat on the sofa and ran a hand through his hair. "He's in there. He can get out. He just doesn't know how," he replied quietly.

Natasha took a deep breath and sat down next to Steve. "I swear, if you tell anyone else what I am about to tell you, I will kill you," she said. Steve looked at her questioningly, not doubting that she would keep her promise.

"I was tortured much like Bucky was. It took some time alone for me to right myself. Then Clint found me while I was still a little "off" and he saved me basically. Bucky just needs time. He'll come back soon," she said comfortingly. Natasha was mentally smacking herself. Was this all it took for the world's best assassin to open up and start conversing with a man she barely knew? She chided herself to keep her mouth shut next time.

"Thanks, Tasha," Steve whispered.

Just then the doorbell rang. Steve jumped up and made his way to the elevator. He still held out hope, although he knew there was no chance.

"Pizza," the delivery man said.

"Pizza!" Tony yelled, walking across the room. He paid the man and took the pizzas, setting them down in the kitchen. "You hungry, Cap?" he asked, already shoving a piece into his mouth.

"I'm good," Steve replied. He got into the elevator and went up to his floor.

"What's his problem?" Tony asked as Natasha grabbed a piece of pizza.

Natasha rolled her eyes at him. "What?" he asked.

"Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand."

Clint and Thor walked into the room, having smelled the pizza.

"This midgardian delight is most tasteful!" Thor exclaimed as he took a slice.

"You have never had pizza?" Clint questioned?

"Pizza," Thor whispered to himself. "No," he replied to Clint.

"You have to get out more," Tony said, motioning to Thor with his pizza.

"Bruce?" Natasha asked.

"In the lab. He said not to bother him," Clint replied.

Natasha finished her pizza and went down in the elevator, looking for some targets to shoot down on the training floor.

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><p>When she got down to the training floor, Natasha already knew what she wanted to do. She had her game-plan set in her head. She headed for the targets first and emptied five magazines into a target, only missing the center once.<p>

Natasha scowled. One stray bullet could mean the difference between a completed mission and a failed one.

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><p><em>"If you even think about not completing the mission, much less you fail, you are already dead. Understood, Romanova?" a thick Russian voice asked.<em>

_ Natasha nodded, knowing better than to verbally respond. She was sent on mission after mission, killing people she didn't even know because she thought it was right in some manner. Maybe her reward for five hundred kills would be freedom. he wasn__'t that lucky._

_ When she did sneak away and tried to think for herself, they caught her and tortured her like never before. Until she once again broke under their control._

_ But she had been broken so many times. Each new time just made her stronger._

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><p>Natasha's fist connected with the punching bag. She shook the dazed look from her eyes and wondered how she got to the bag in the first place.<p>

"I always was good at multi-tasking," she whispered to herself and smirked. She steadied the bag and wiped a few strands of damp hair from her face. Natasha punched the bag again and smirked as it flew backwards and creaked as the bag came back to her.

She threw a quick volley, her knuckles striking the bag in multiple points. When she was finished, her breathing was heavy, the bag was moving, and her knuckles were sore, but her demons were gone.

Something flew against the wall in the training room next to hers. Approaching cautiously, she peeked around the door and saw Steve, looking helplessly at the broken punching bag lying on the floor before he picked up another one and continued with his routine.

Natasha entered the room and Steve snapped around, startled at her sudden appearance.

"At ease, soldier," she said jokingly. Steve stopped punching the bag and looked at her, chest heaving.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied in a gentlemanly fashion, although a smirk graced his lips.

"You come here too?" she asked.

"Obviously. Working out helps you stay in shape and ready for a fight," he replied and began unwrapping the bands from around his hands.

"You know what I mean," she pressed.

Steve looked up at her with his blue eyes, sweat dampening his forehead. "Better me take out my demons here than have them torment me all day long," he answered honestly. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go see if Stark saved any pizza."

He walked past her, his footsteps slightly heavy. He was still mad about Bucky. Steve also knew well enough that Tony would never save any pizza. He just wanted an excuse to leave the room.

Natasha looked at the four punching bags all leaking sand onto the floor and decided to not ask him about the matter any more that night.


End file.
